


Pain, passion and the pits

by WishIWasAGrayson



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Racing, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad Pick-Up Lines, Bottom Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Eventual Smut, F/F, Fluff, Jason Todd-centric, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent Roy Harper, Past Abuse, Protective Roy Harper, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:27:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 74,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25344673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WishIWasAGrayson/pseuds/WishIWasAGrayson
Summary: People race for different reasons. Some race for the thrill of overtaking your rival when turning tight to a corner. Some race for the hope of coming first, winning the championship, taking the glory. Others race for what could be described as ‘Champagne, Cocaine and Cunt’.Jason would definitely argue that he was a glory guy in a way that he enjoyed seeing others frustrated with the fact that Jason Todd, street rat and miracle survivor of the 04’ Francorchamps crash, had beaten them. These are the same people who were usually groomed from birth to be a high placing Formula One driver and achieved it by riding upper class dick for decades. Jason wasn’t one of them and he relished that fact.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Stephanie Brown/Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent
Comments: 11
Kudos: 55





	1. Agreements and contradictions

**Author's Note:**

> Hey lovely people! This is a new fic I have been working on for a while and I am super excited to share it with you guys. I know F1 racing is a bit niche but I hope that you enjoy the ideas I have been coming up with.
> 
> Comments and kudos are always really appreciated and I would love to hear what you guys think of this fic and angsty racer Jay!
> 
> I will be trying to update every Friday night and at the moment I'm not totally sure of where this is going but I also kinda love that.
> 
> Anyways stay safe everyone, wash your hands and wear a mask <3

The Spa-Francorpschamps track is infamous for its unpredictable weather. Today’s race was of no exception. Coming on to the straight after bend 6 he had his foot on the throttle and he was catching the emerald car ahead of him. Aggressive as usual, coming up to bend 7 he hugged the inside line whilst pushing the engine urging it to move closer to the other driver. This would have normally been considered a dangerous move, the track wet and uneven, but as usual, he had to push further.

Sparks flew as the chassis of the car in front bottomed against the concrete and as they both approached what was now bend 8. Suddenly the steering of the emerald car juddered and locked and it went flying off the track, colliding with the crash barrier at 180 miles per hour. He smiled as he moved one place up the ranks whilst registering that green car recoiling in shock.

Darkness.

The audience gasped as they watched a loose tire from the Metropolis Power car launch back and strike the new driver, Todd, straight on his helmet. His head snapped back in complete earnest and his hands slipped away from the wheel as he became a victim of the chicane between 8’ and 9’. His car hit the rumble strip with a lurch, launching itself at full speed onto the gravel trap and then eventually into the crash barrier. As the car flipped round in reaction, the driver lay limp in the chassis; head lolling to the side in an ominous manner. 

Once the car stopped many rushed over, grabbing the arm of the driver whose lower half was stuck inside of the car. His legs were held in place by the oppressive force of Kevlar which had been forced inwards by the crash and to a point it didn’t seem to matter as the driver still remained unconscious. 

Smoke billowed from the bottom of the car and before the stewards knew the engine had ignited, bold flames were licking at the side of the drivers Nomex suit. By the time the fire had been extinguished and the driver had been pulled out of the cockpit, the sound of sirens was evident. The balaclava that covered the young man's face, below his helmet, couldn’t hide the oh-so apparent blunt force trauma which had knocked this man unconscious. 

The race continued, as it always does, but perhaps every time a driver turned through that chicane and saw the two corpses of cars sitting there ominously they slowed slightly. Eventually, the race was called off at around the 35th lap when it was announced that the young driver who had crashed out on bend 8, only on the 6th lap round, was dead. 

Or at least he was unconscious. In a coma. Completely unresponsive. It seemed that the rain was appropriate as the remains of his scarlet car was towed away back to the pits, past drivers holding their heads low. Only 19 and this boy had lost his life. 

Or so that is what the universe wanted them to believe.

~~~~~~~~~~~

People race for different reasons. Some race for the thrill of overtaking your rival when turning tight to a corner. Some race for the hope of coming first, winning the championship, taking the glory. Others race for what could be described as ‘Champagne, Cocaine and Cunt’.

Jason would definitely argue that he was a glory guy in a way that he enjoyed seeing others frustrated with the fact that Jason Todd, street rat and miracle survivor of the 04’ Francorchamps crash, had beaten them. These are the same people who were usually groomed from birth to be a high placing Formula One driver and achieved it by riding upper class dick for decades. Jason wasn’t one of them and he relished that fact.

Perhaps that is why he felt so wrong shaking hands with Callum Worthing , the director of the new racing company Outlaw Sports, as they agreed on the contract in front of them. It could have been the phantom pains, that poured out of those long scars which ran over his thighs, that made his stomach flip as he agreed to join the league again. His thoughts were interrupted.

‘You see my darling Jason. I can make you a winner….my cars are faster and more powerful, plus better made and less likely set alight.’ Perhaps that joke could have been never said but Callum laughed as he said it. 

‘You know I’m kidding my love. What happened’, he said with the fakest shake of his head, ‘was so dreadful! You were literally on the road to success and you were thrown overboard.’

‘Ts’ nothing.’ Jason shook it off. He wished that he would remove that day from everyone's minds and subsequently stop the constant oohing and awing that happened whether he went. He wasn’t the only one who had been injured badly and honestly he was lucky to still be alive. Many others weren't.

‘Either way darling you are in good hands now. Let me remind you that the next year of your life will be the renaissance of Jason Todd and if you perform well then there is no reason for us to not pick you again….’ Jason went to thank him but was cut off.

‘You know how many people want you? How many people are ready to snatch you up the moment you leave here? You're the next star with all the passion and anger that people live to watch and re-watch and re-watch.’ He continued waving his arms in what Jason considered a rather comical fashion.

Callum continued with the bullshit which he spewed over Jason’s new contract. He would be submitted and registered back into the league under Outlaw Sport. Under this company he would race in a team of two against 8 other teams. In the end, the team would want to score as high as possible as individuals but also not leave their other team mate floundering in their literal dust. 

Jason’s pre-Spa team had been completely unsuccessful and that probably was his own fault. He clashed with his partner, Garfield Logan, constantly leaving him behind or refusing to let him pass or slandering him online or….just thinking about that dumb shit brings a smile to his face. He hoped that his new pal would just let Jason be Jason and not tell him to ‘let me pass cos i got more points in the league and if i lose this we both lose!’. 

‘One more thing darling,’ Callum interrupts his thoughts ‘There is a charity event, slash ball-thing, slash party happening in a week and I need you to be there so we can get some rich men to keep paying for you to race. I’m sure you're an expert charmer so I will not have to worry….hmm you’re free to go now my love.’ He encased Jason in one more intense hug, ‘Welcome to the team!’, kissed him on the cheek and then led Jason out of the room.

Jason walked along the sleek corridor watching his reflection in the black marble wall. He turned to it, pushing back a strand of his hair from his face and pulling his leather jacket around his broad shoulders. Compared to the men around him, he once again stood out but to an extent he didn’t care. He didn’t want to be them, they didn’t want to be seen like he was either. 

People want to be entertained and that’s something Jason could do. He was notorious for driving aggressively and hitting every corner with passion and snarling teeth. Perhaps that’s what led to Francorpchamps. Even in supposed death he entertained people, his name hung on their tongues even when they didn’t want it to.

The Outlaw Sports building was granted to the company by some big wig business mogul who defo had a fetish for fast cars and skin tight racing suits. With aforementioned black marble walls and sharp edges it did give Outlaw Sport a professional look although with Jason as one of their drivers they would struggle to keep that up. Jason himself knew how much money it cost to create a racing team and it was obvious that Callum was new money, compared to his fundraiser overlord who was propping this whole shindig up from the base. By the sounds of it he was going to meet him at this fundraiser thing and therefore he had better iron out his many, many creases which were so ingrained into his tough exterior that the night before this shit he will be plastering a permanent smile onto his face.

The lift from Callum’s office took Jason down to the main lobby of the building where a huge picture of a car racing down the straight, of what Jason recognised as Monza or Barcelona, was displayed. He pushed through the turning doors and was hit with the sound of Bludhaven traffic on a Monday morning. Pushing past a group of people, who were standing happily chatting, he looked down at his phone as it vibrated in his hand. An address and a time from his beloved Callum. Jason had barely left him and he already had him on strings. Jason pasted the address into google and cocked his head in surprise.

Bruce Wayne. He had never been interested in racing before. Sure he met the profile, rich, young...looking, hot, all the ladies wanted him (and all the men wouldn’t admit they felt the same) but he wasn’t a big name in racing; not the same as the heavyweights Luthor or Sionis. Jason wondered to himself whether him being on Wayne’s virgin team would worry or thrill this new driving enthusiast. Whether Jason would be able to deliver the adrenaline rush which they all craved from him. The danger of the track, or the way his gloves gripped the steering column, or the way the marbles from his tires hurtled into the rumblestrip. Whatever it was, he now relied on Jason to grant him this pleasure.


	2. Veracity and falsehoods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It could be argued that by the time the car pulled up, along the street below Jason’s large french window, he was at a climax - and not a good one. To Callum’s dismay, originally, Jason had begged him to let him ride his motorbike to the gala instead of having to experience the pain of sitting in a car with Callum for over five minutes. However, Jason had been denied this privilege and was told ‘See you at eight, love!’
> 
> Grabbing his keys from the counter, Jason pushed his fears deep down with a large inhale. Fuck, he wanted a smoke. Was it too late to run round the block, grab a pack and chain smoke the lot? Normally, that is what Jason would do to calm himself down; once all his other options had been exhausted. Looking up, as he stood on his porch, he saw Callum waving him down and accepted that chain smoking a pack was definitely not an option anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Yes, it's Saturday not Friday but I hope that you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I have done writing it. I want to say a massive thank you to my friend Vani who has helped me with dumb mistakes and brainstorming late at night on instagram. Love ya Bhav!
> 
> Thanks for all the kudos and comments are super appreciated <3
> 
> Stay safe and wear a mask :)

Jason’s apartment, nestled in the top corner of East Gotham, was luckily far enough from the city centre. This was ‘luckily’ as Callum was restricted in his constant feverous messaging as he couldn’t, although he definitely wanted to drop by at any moment in time. This was to Jason’s relief, as although he respected Callum as the founder of his new team, he also hated basically all of his mannerisms.

He talked in a similar way the blonde ladies at the soup kitchen used to talk to him.  
‘Make sure you eat up honey!’ As if they didn’t see the way his clothes hung off his boney body. He hated their fake smiles, their perfect porcelain teeth and their miniscule waists. He would watch them totter away, their high...high heels preventing them from walking completely perfectly, back to their husbands who were definitely twice their age and only with them because they made pretty sounds when railed into the headboard.

Those women encapsulated a lot of upper class Gothamites and their experience with the local strays. In Gotham to stay alive and afloat one must be ruthless and cutthroat; that stands whether you are scrapping at the bottom of the pile or floating on top of it. This was one of the essential rules of Gotham’s culture, alongside never praising Metropolis the prissy competitor city. One man seemed to escape all of these rules; Bruce Wayne.

It was the Friday of the same week, in which Jason had signed his contract with Callum Worthing, and over the past days Jason had pottered around his small studio apartment thinking anxiously over the ever so increasingly unavoidable gala which was on Saturday night. He stood in the mirror pulling his new dress shirt over his head, it felt crisp against his bare skin, and adjusting it so the straggling bottom bits were tucked into his dress pants. Looking himself up and down he adjusted his hair, pulling the central and signature white streak up and then down. 

He had bought this tuxedo, with some money from his new contract, after Callum had told him of the gala as at first, he had pulled his old tux out of the closet and tried it on. Needless to say, he was much too big for it and his image proved the veracity of the difference between pre-Spa Jason, young and lean - desperate to see the world, and post-Spa Jason, desperate and cumbersome. At least that is what he saw, an old dog could learn new tricks and he would show them all that.

As the sun fell behind a large skyscraper, Jason would be found curled up on his bed with Austen in his hand. This evening it was Emma, although he would have to admit that he was fairly basic in his favourite being Sense and Sensibility. Ever since he was a young boy he had loved to read and therefore it was no surprise that being tucked under some old blankets with a classic in his hand would quell his dancing anxieties.

When he woke, Jason felt fear cascade over him. Although, he acted blase about this gala shit deep down he was desperate to please, and yet he knew he would never be enough for Wayne. The gala was in just under eleven hours and that heavy space in time weighed him down as he crawled into his kitchen. He tried to calm his rising chest, one thing he could do was cook. 

Cracking an egg into a bowl was the exact metaphor his heart clung to. The yolk so pure and yellow, dropped down and settled in the bowl, bearing itself to its creator. Then Jason frantically checked to see if any shell was near that perfect yolk and as if predetermined by some higher author, there was. Here’s the issue, once people start pushing their fat fingers into that bowl, to remove the harsh and ugly shell, the yolk bleeds out. No longer whole, the fragments of yellow swirl into one big, indescribable mess.

In the end, he humoured, it all tastes the same.

When he sat at the table, shovelling scrambled eggs down his throat, he hoped that he could keep that mantra in his head this evening when everyone turned their nose up at his harsh edges. In the end, people’s opinion will not affect how his engine performs, how fast he escapes the pits and how much his hands judder on the steering column. That is up to him; Jason Todd, the boy who survived the Spa francorchamps crash and the man who will lead his new team to success.

~~~~~~~~~~~

It could be argued that by the time the car pulled up, along the street below Jason’s large french window, he was at a climax - and not a good one. To Callum’s dismay, originally, Jason had begged him to let him ride his motorbike to the gala instead of having to experience the pain of sitting in a car with Callum for over five minutes. However, Jason had been denied this privilege and was told ‘See you at eight, love!’

Grabbing his keys from the counter, Jason pushed his fears deep down with a large inhale. Fuck, he wanted a smoke. Was it too late to run round the block, grab a pack and chain smoke the lot? Normally, that is what Jason would do to calm himself down; once all his other options had been exhausted. Looking up, as he stood on his porch, he saw Callum waving him down and accepted that chain smoking a pack was definitely not an option anymore. 

‘Don’t you look adorable!’ Callum swooned at Jason once he had stepped into the car. Jason sat himself as far away from Callum as possible but Callum still managed to end up nearly bent over his lap. Jason definitely blamed this behaviour on the open bottle of Moet hiding in the corner of the car. 

‘Can you get off.’ Jason answered gruffly pushing Callum’s back into the seat.

‘Oh love! You’re no fun…’ he drooled turning to the man sat next to him who Jason had not been introduced to yet. ‘This is my favourite piece of meat’ he continued, ‘Jay, love, this is Ben…..’

He was interrupted by the other sober man. ‘It’s actually Trevor…’ to which Jason winced loudly and pulled his phone out pretending to text someone. As he rationalised what was happening, he struggled to hold in a cascade of laughs which were brimming at his lips. The sooner this journey was over the better it was for Callum, Jason and Ben or Trevor; whoever this guy was.

Luckily, Wayne Manor was far enough removed from Gotham to escape the crazies but close enough to be a symbol of the city.

As the car joined the queue of guests entering the Wayne gates Jason felt that fear growing once more, but honestly at this moment in time anything would be better than the current climate of the car. Upon the sound of tires rolling over gravel, Jason sat up; ready to dash out of the door as quickly as possible. Once the door was slid open seamlessly, Jason jumped from the steps and walked briskly away from Callum and his rampant drunken haze.

Stepping through the grand entrance of Wayne Manor Jason had never felt so small. A portrait of Martha and Thomas Wayne hung above the central ascending stairs; a shrine to the foundation this house and family was built on - tragedy.

Martha and Thomas had been victims of a ‘mugging’ gone wrong in the infamous Crime Alley although, anyone from Crime Alley would tell you that no one gets shot during a mugging…. .Either way Bruce Wayne was an orphan overnight and for years he disappeared from the public eye; the child traumatised by what his soul had witnessed. Wayne had reappeared around the age of 19 as an overzealous billionaire playboy who had a lot to give and absolutely nothing to lose, yet still no facade of Brucie could cover the pain that grew like weeds in between the cracks of porcelain stone which built the Manor.

Selfishly turning to his own tragedy, Jason wanted to play ‘How many times will Spa be mentioned?’. He needed to find a bar so he could escape all this small talk and perhaps turn his game into a drinking one.

Jason followed the stream of people to the left and was greeted by the sound of chatter and classical music - mozart perhaps (Jason had played piano for a moment but wasn’t familiar with, what this was, string quartet music). Someone tapped the shoulder of his crisp black blazer.

‘Todd!’ Garth grinned pulling Jason to his chest before slapping his back heartily. 

This was the first time this week Jason was actually quite pleased to meet someone unexpected and he returned the smile. ‘You grew your hair out’, to which Garth raised an eyebrow, ‘You’re gonna have trouble fittin’ a man bun, like that, under your helmet.’ Jason continued teasing.

Garth was laughing now. ‘God, I missed you and that sharp tongue, it’s great to have you back...I was so pleased when I heard you were returning.’ Garth subconsciously touched the aforementioned man bun and seemed pleased that it was still in place. 

‘I had to start again somehow,’ puffing his chest with newly found confidence ‘plus the offer was very attractive-’

‘I’m sure it was!’ Garth moved to stand next to Jason talking to him secondarily and primarily scanning the large ballroom. ‘Don’t worry I won’t bother you this season. Our engines are much slower than Outlaw’s - this is also Kaldur and I’s last year.’

‘With Saagar?’ Garth and Kaldur had been solid and loyal members of the Indian based team since day one; they even stuck with them as the engines got older and slower. Jason had watched as both cars had slipped from fourth and fifth to fifteenth and seventeenth in the space in three seasons. If you don’t evolve, you die.

Garth snorted in amusement. ‘We are too old for this Todd, we have decided that we will quit the sport all together at the end of the season…leaving room for some talented kiddos to take over our burden.’

Jason tried to hide his expression of shock as he heard what Garth was saying. Saagar had been a team of legend and now they were retiring….he only had one season to beat them and show them his worth.

‘I’m surprised your mate Harper is still going as well,’ Garth broke the silence, ‘he should be kicking around our age. Us oldies just don’t stand a chance against talents like you and Drake.’ Registering Jason’s silence, Garth asked in a confused tone. ‘Have you met Harper yet?’

‘No -’ Jason shook his head. ‘I haven’t. You don’t mind pointing him out for me do you.’

‘Sure, Todd.’ He pointed to the corner of the room, turning to Jason. ‘If you don’t like my hair I have bad news for you.’ Garth grinned. ‘It’s longer than mine and ginger.’ To which Jason let out an audible facepalm.

‘Thanks Garth.’ He began to walk in the advised direction before turning back to face his old idol. ‘What would I do without you?’ Giving Garth a fake bow, which rewarded him a hearty laugh, Jason turned back. Time to meet his other half.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Jason pulled up a stool to the minibar, which Garth had pointed him to, and was the resting place of his new ginger teammate Roy Harper. The top of Roy’s mop of hair was pulled back and tied with what looked like a pink loom band. The rest of his hair was down and bounced just above the shoulders of his deep grey blazer. His face was freckled around his nose and under his greyish-blueish eyes. Conventionally attractive, with a sharp jawline and lips that pulled slightly to the right in a smirk.

Roy turned to Jason; who at this point had sat himself on the chair next to Roy. ‘Wanna drink?’

Jason nodded ‘Thanks.’. Roy flashed him some pointy teeth and called the bartender over, ordering two Vodka and Coke’s. Once the bartender had left Roy turned himself fully to face Jason and he looked him over with full intent. Jason felt very examined for a brief moment but was relieved when Roy raised his eyes at Jason and laughed. ‘So I’m getting shacked up with you for a season.’ 

Jason rolled his eyes, ‘You will be thankful when I carry us to first place,’ he put his hand out to Roy ‘Jason Todd, great to meet you.’ Roy looked at the offer for a second, which raised Jason’s heart rate, before taking his hand with a slap and shaking it firmly.

‘Roy Harper, your new favourite person on earth.’ By this time the drinks had been brought over to them and Roy pulled them over passing one to Jason. They looked at each other and unanimously agreed to take a swig at the same time. Jason felt very comfortable basking in Harpers relaxed aura, his bubbling anxieties at an all time low, they seemed very similar; in some sense they were both hiding in the corner of a busy room avoiding what they were meant to be doing and Jason found solace in not being alone in that.

Roy put his glass down with a clink and sighed. ‘This isn’t very us is it,’ turning to address the room ‘Tell me if i’m wrong but you don’t wanna be here, it’s not your style, all this upper class dick riding bullshit.’

Jason laughed under his breath, this guy was a good judge of character. ‘I’ve never been that guy-’

‘Oh, I know..’, Roy interrupted with that infamous smirk, ‘Snarling teeth and breakneck speeds, pulling tight round the corner in the scarlet car. It’s Jason Todd, boy wonder, faster than lightning and as angry as a bull.’

Jason cringed at his old tagline, ‘Stop, stop ….haven’t I heard that enough, no need to bully your new teammate.’

To which Roy laughed, ‘alright..alright!’, he threw his head back, a deep laugh bubbling out from his chest, ‘I’ll stop Jaybird.’

Jason recoiled in shock at the nickname and Roy grinned at his reaction. ‘Personally, I think Jaybird is better than anything Callum will have given you.’ Jason was relieved once more, Roy also hated Callum; another thing which they seemed to have in common. ‘What is it?’ Roy grinned. ‘Jason...love, Jaybabe, Jason my darling!’ Leaning forwards to hang off Jason in a scarily accurate impression of their employer.

Roy’s phone interrupted them as it vibrated on the bar loudly. He picked it up quickly, ‘Probably babysitter’, he whispered to Jason before holding the phone to his ear.   
‘Hello….Yes, just play some cartoons...yes, that’s fine! Please don’t worry...she...no-no, cartoons, milk and then bed….’. 

Jason held his drink swirling it patiently, trying not to listen to Roy’s conversation fully. Honestly, he was shocked as this industry wasn’t a kid friendly one. Maybe Roy was an uncle who looked after his family when others couldn’t...or did he actually have a kid. Jason couldn't imagine anything worse than having to worry about others as well as himself. He had enough of his own problems.

‘My kid’s a devil.’ Roy sighed as he put his phone down. ‘Apparently, she’s been put to bed five times and has gotten up every single one.’ Jason smiled softly imagining Roy running around after a super fast and angry toddler.

Roy picked his phone up and showed his lock screen to Jason. ‘The love of my life.’ Jason looked at the picture of the little girl. Dark wispy hair pulled back into two plaits, definitely inherited from her mother not the redhead in front of him. Her freckles mirrored Roy’s but the canvas they were darted upon was slightly darker than Roy’s own skin. Roy had definitely given her those striking green eyes and she had similarly pointed canines which were on full show as she was smiling so widely.

‘She’s adorable.’ Jason took another sip of his drink and watched as pride flushed over Roy’s face. ‘I don’t wanna sound rude’, Jason continued talking, ‘ but howda you have the time to have a kid.’ he hoped Roy wouldn’t take the comment to heart and he held his breath as he waited for his response.

Roy swallowed some more drink and looked at Jason with a smile. ‘No need to look so scared...I don’t think it’s rude...it’s honestly nice for someone to care for once. So basically, when I was younger I was a bit wild..’ he gave Jason a look, ‘I’m sure you know all about that...but anyway. I fell in love fast, with a girl who was not with me for love but for definite other reasons...I guess it's still a compliment.’ He laughs softly, a flush covering his face. ‘And suddenly she left...I was fucking heartbroken but I learnt to focus on racing more and that was when I actually got a lot better at it. A couple years ago, I’m hanging out in my apartment and she just appeared with this bundle of joy strapped to her chest. And...I’m a sucker so she leaves and I’m left alone with my gorgeous Lian in my arms.’

Jason was not shocked but actually felt his heart warm at the idea of Roy holding his baby in his arms. There were not many good examples of male parenting in his own family and so to hear Roy talking, with so much love twining through his words, about his daughter was honestly refreshing to the bone. 

‘I bet you’re a great dad.’ Jason interrupted Roy’s lovestruck babbling and he almost made a sound like a choke. ‘You sound like a great dad….Lian is lucky.’

‘You can’t tell me that... you will have me crying before you know it.’ Roy sniffed as he patted Jason’s shoulders and finished off his drink. Jason went to continue their conversation but was put on pause by the presence of someone behind them.

‘Of course I would find my boys hiding in the corner.’ A silky voice announced behind them. 

They both turned immediately to face Bruce Wayne, who was stood with his head cocked to the side and with Callum barely hanging off of him.

Roy stood up quickly, ‘Mr Wayne, it’s great to meet you, Jason and I are so grateful to have you supporting this team. We will show everyone what real racing is.’ Roy gave Jason some sideways glances as a signal to speak.

Jason took his signal and tried not to look intimidating. ‘Yes, we both appreciate you for giving us this opportunity-’

‘We’re not exactly the most…’, Roy looked to Jason and then back to their backer, ‘reliable.’ 

Bruce's eyes sparkled and Jason really questioned the truth of the smile he was giving them. ‘No need to thank me son,’ Bruce shook Roy’s hand, ‘I’m fairly new to this myself and I’m just looking forward to going to all these races.’ He gave them a smile which definitely worked with the ladies and his teeth were as white as porcelain. Everything about this man screamed fake to Jason.

Bruce interrupted Jason’s thoughts, ‘What’s bothering you son?’ That nickname was gonna get old fast, Jason’s brain boiled at the thought of being called Son over and over again. 

‘Nothing.’ Jason answered curtly. ‘There is just a lot to think about.’ Watching the way Bruce’s eyes scanned Jason’s face, he could tell that this persona was as fake as he had guessed it was the moment he had stepped into the manor.

Roy broke the silence continuing the conversation at a pleasant pace wooing Bruce and dropping an abundance of compliments about his charity work, his house, his family, his company...it goes on and on. At this point Jason had definitely spaced out but once again he felt himself being watched. Stood just behind Wayne in the background was a younger man. Tall with dark hair and a slim figure, he watched them with great intent whilst seemingly distanced from their conversation. He seemed interested in this exchange and only looked away when he noticed Jason watching. Disappearing into the crowd he left Jason curious to find out more. Turning his attention back to Wayne, he nodded in agreement to whatever he had just said and let small muffled laughs escape his mouth whenever they were supposed to.

Deep in his mind the question of reality and fiction danced and he wondered how much this evening would reveal for him, Wayne and the future of their team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated :)


	3. Silence and conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh sweet love of god what treasure had Dick discovered hidden in his own Library. Be still his fluttering heartbeat and his stuttering words. Compose yourself Grayson he whispered in his head as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his trousers. After the failed joke he felt his knees stuttering and Dick watched the face of the man in front of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again i post on Saturday evening and I feel like that is becoming a schedule haha. Thanks to everyone who left kudos on last weeks chapter and also thanks to the person who left the comment <3
> 
> Welcome, Dick Grayson and let chaos reign! Once I start the Jaydick I will not be able to stop and so I hope everyone is prepared for some overly sweet romanticism.
> 
> Once again thanks to my great friend Vani for helping me edit this. :)
> 
> Stay safe and wear a mask!

The sun had begun to dip down below the horizon and it seemed as the light dropped, the volume in the main ballroom of Wayne Manor increased. Jason’s ass was aching from sitting on the same stool for what felt like centuries. For a while now Jason had been staring at the laces of his smart shoes which perfectly crisscrossed each other in such a symmetrical manner. Roy was being a great friend and taking the complete emotional burden of the present conversation and was carrying it effortlessly.

Jason wouldn’t say that he was awkward or emotionally stunted, he just hated being fake and it simply would not be truthful to act completely interested in this gala. That wasn’t who he was. Jason would argue that he had many friends when he was a young boy but perhaps that was cos’ as a hungry street kid you lived in a pack and if you had no friends you had no pack, and if you had no pack...well you’re fucked. In summary, Jason was friends with people always for a purpose. 

As a kid, he was aware of this and when feeling desperately alone he would whisper to himself; that when he was older and had money he could be friends with people for pleasure. To an extent, he did achieve that. During his first season, Jason attracted the attention of many, mainly due to his sudden mountain of money which he received almost immediately after his first race, and he fell for them; treating them to expensive night outs and exotic commodities - anything they asked him for. All he wanted in return was friendship, love...maybe and someone to talk to after a stressful day. 

When Jason woke up in the hospital he found himself alone. No one was there and at first, he joked with himself that - of course, he woke up when the room was empty - but the truth was revealed when he asked the nurse to call whoever had visited him and she gave him a look which could be described as palpable pity. From that day on Jason decided he would always live by the truth of who he was and if that meant he would never connect with another soul, fuck em’......their loss.

Snapping back to reality Jason noticed Bruce looking back over his shoulder. He seemed to be addressing two smartly suited men loitering behind them. ‘We should introduce you.’

Roy looked over at the same two men, ‘Lex Luthor and….’, he seemed to be reminding himself of their names and was chewing on his lip so gently as he did.

‘Roman Sionis.’ Jason said softly under his breath. In surprise at the fact, Jason had just spoken and both Wayne and Harper looked at him.

‘He used to be your manager Jaylad?’ Bruce was prying at Jason’s thoughts trying to evoke some sort of an emotional reaction from the distant boy in front of him. Jason nodded shortly in response as he stood up and dusted himself off; psyching himself up for another unwanted conversation. As the new trio walked towards the other backers Jason felt Roy squeeze his arm, just above his elbow, in a protective manner. Locking eyes with Roy he almost heard his crass voice inside his mind. ‘I’ve got you. Don’t worry.’

Luthor grinned at Bruce in an overly welcoming manner and spread his arms wide. ‘Our gracious host, who has been hiding all evening.’ He shook Bruce’s hand in a way that Jason observed as fairly aggressive.

Bruce laughed, ‘Lex? I would never hide.’, giving Lex one of those famous twinkly smiles which Jason had been analysing all evening. Out of the corner of his eye, he felt Roman staring at him but he definitely felt more confident following Bruce into the lion’s den rather than throwing himself headfirst into it.

Luthor was smiling in an eerie manner. ‘You’ve met Roman?’ He signaled to the man on his left.

‘Yes,’ Bruce returned, ‘Just not in this context. We have met for Wayne Enterprise deals before, correct me if I am wrong.’

Roman’s tone of voice was just as chilling as Jason had remembered and he felt his hair stand on edge as he replied. ‘Yes. This is a new venture of yours Wayne….risky for a first-timer.’

‘Everything has a certain element of risk Roman.’ Bruce raised an eyebrow as he ushered over a waitress and took a glass of champagne from the tray she was holding. ‘Lex, have you met my boys?’ He looked to Jason and then Roy whilst tipping his glass to his mouth.

‘I have heard lots.’ Lex’s eyes burned through Jason’s skull. Lex showed his metropolis heritage through the efficiency of his blazer pulled tightly around his middle and the oh so contradictory gold rings which decorated his fingers and flashed in Jason’s glassy eyes.

An accented voice cut him off ‘Don’t count me out.’ and Lex’s eyes switched to Roy who stood testing the waters of the conversation confidently. ‘Sure - Jason may be the star but I have a lot to prove as well.’ Jason felt a flush raise over his face and his confidence rise at Roy’s words.

‘Of course, he definitely earned ‘star status’ but in such tragic circumstances.’ Luthor’s tone dripped with sarcasm; tension growing thick between the five men.

‘I know Jason would prefer it if we don’t mention his trauma.’ Roy replied quickly in fear of the manner in which Luthor’s sentence trickled on.

Roman, whose face was covered in burn scars and therefore was constantly stuck in an unimpressed expression, let out what almost sounded like a growl. ‘I’m sure my boy can speak for himself Harper.’ His possessive tone cut deep and felt more serious than any of Luthor’s tactically aimed comments. 

Jason chewed the insides of his cheeks through the minutes of complete silence before realising he was meant to say something. ‘I’d rather if we talk about someone else than me.’ He said neutrally.

‘Oh how cordial of you.’ Luthor teased before looking testingly at Roy once more. ‘You’re not the usual type for this are you Harper... but I guess it’s not normal for the street rat either.’ To which Jason recoiled, his heart pounding as adrenaline began to enter his bloodstream. He hadn’t expected anyone to outright say it, to his face as well.

Sensing the way Roy furrowed his eyebrows Bruce burst out laughing. ‘Come on now everyone! We are here to have a good time and get to see the competition and to drink and schmooze and have a good time. I did not agree to host this year to have four men in suits break out into a fight in my ballroom of all places; save the feisty behavior for your wives.’ Luthor joined Bruce in a smile and he clapped Roman on the back.

Luthor’s mood lifted as his anger was placated for the moment and he continued the painful conversation. ‘Well however good you boys are you are going to have a tough time beating my team.’ To which Jason glanced towards Roy’s face which was stuck in a tight-lipped sorta smile which expressed the level of restraint he was committing to.

‘Of course,’ Bruce pretended to sound interested. ‘You’ve recruited my neighbor.’ 

‘Tim is the best of his kind at the moment and he will be blessed with the fastest engines in the league.’ Luthor seemed to swell with pride, Jason noticing, his bald head glistening slightly as he turned the expensive cufflinks at the bottom of his suit.

‘He a newbie?’ Roy questioned politely, trying to repair his reputation with Luthor which so far was definitely not good.

Luthor turned to him with a smile. ‘It’s his first season and honestly he should be grateful for my trust in a nobody like him.’

Jason’s heart fluttered at that comment. Tim Drake was hardly a nobody, he lived next to Bruce for fucks sake, and was part of one of the biggest families in Gotham; that being the Drake’s. When it had been first announced, earlier this week, that Tim was joining the Metropolis Power team Jason was intrigued. The picture of the boy revealed something deeper than just a millionaire's son. Tim looked fairly fragile for a driver and he was young but what truly stole Jason’s attention was the cold behind his eyes; he looked tired and perhaps Jason could relate.

Trying to jog his memory of the other page, in the two-page spread, Jason’s eyes rolled to the right and he snapped his fingers. ‘His partner is Conner Kent, correct.’ 

Luthor seemed to pull his tongue over his teeth when Jason spoke. ‘Yes, you have been reading up? I like my drivers to be prepared. Good job.’ Jason felt his stomach dancing as he sensed all of them watching him with such intent. 

‘Tim should be here somewhere. I should introduce you to him, of course, you know him already Bruce.’ Lex began to move to the right, with Roy and Bruce following him, to where Jason guessed Lex’s favourite new toy Tim was. He went to take a step after them and flinched when he felt a hand squeeze his shoulder tightly.

Turning to face Roman Jason felt fear paralyse his legs. ‘You’ve done well for yourself my boy.’ He said coldly, his gloved hand still attached to Jason’s shoulder. ‘But don’t forget what you are.’ That hand was now resting on his cheek and it was cold against his skin. Jason smelt the black leather and tried not to flinch as Roman’s fingers crept round to the back of his neck, holding his face still with a tight and crushing grip. His deep pitted eyes stared into Jason’s ‘A bird with clipped wings will struggle to fly.’

Before he knew it Roman had followed them and Jason felt as if his supposed feathers were tarred and weighed him to the floor. In his mind, Roman’s scarred and uneven face repeated itself and he re-watched the ways his lips curled into a smirk as he snarled out those words.

Jason stood speechless, the air completely knocked out of him and once he had gathered the courage and energy to turn he saw they had left. They were all that desperate to see this new legend Drake.

Putting one foot in front of the other he pushed his way back into the crowd, Roman’s voice echoing in his head, in an attempt to spot maybe Roy’s vibrant hair or Lex’s comically shiny head but to his dismay, he saw nothing. As he stumbled forwards in confusion and increasing anxiety, having lost his only protection for the evening, he was only stopped by the feeling of something tugging purposefully on the back of his blazer. He whipped around ready to face Roman again, or to jump in joy for Roy, or feel calmed by Bruce and his ability to carry a conversation.

‘Are you my brother’s lover for the evening?’ The boy-kid-teenager in front of him asked. His arms were crossed over his chest in a confrontational manner and the way his head was slightly cocked to the side implied he was growing bored of Jason’s shock.

‘Wha-’

‘I said,’ The boy glared at him angrily, as he let a puff of air out of his upturned nose, ‘Are you my brother’s lover for the evening.’ Jason felt as if his jaw was on the flaw, this evening could not get any worse; he nearly punched Lex Luthor, got manhandled by his old abuser, and was now being accused of being a fucking prostitute by a just 5-foot child.

‘No…’ Jason looked around him to check that this conversation was real and he hadn’t floated into loony land. 

‘Good.’ The boy snapped at him with an animosity Jason wasn’t expecting. ‘And if you are lying!’ He pointed a chubby finger at Jason accusingly. ‘I’m watching you.’

Jason watched in shock as he heard the boy walk away. ‘What the fuck.’ He sighed under his breath as he scrubbed his face. The noise of the room was now getting to his head as he felt his skull pounding and he decided that enough socialising had been done to constitute a break in a quiet place away from everyone. Having made his way back to the main foyer he approached an older looking man who seemed to have what Jason would describe as a kind face.

‘Excuse me-’ Jason addressed the man, who up close Jason realised was perhaps a butler, ‘I have a headache, is there anywhere I can go to get some quiet...and hide from people.’ He laughed to himself softly hoping the man would understand his humour.

The man listened attentively to Jason and nodded. ‘Of course, Master Todd, follow me.’ His English accent was sharp and almost made Jason ignore the fact he already knew his name.

Jason walked a step behind the man, who at this point introduced himself ‘Alfred Pennyworth, Master Bruce’s butler and guardian when he was a child.’ Bruce must have told Alfred of Jason, and for some reason that made Jason trust Bruce a tiny bit more than before.

‘The East Library should suffice.’ Alfred opened the large crested door open to Jason and led him into the grand room. Jason was in awe at the large stacks of books he saw before him and suddenly felt a sense of calm wash over his whole body. ‘Although you will not be able to hide forever, you will definitely have some space to rejuvenate in here.’

‘Thank you so much.’ Jason almost bowed to Alfred and he felt a connection being planted between this stranger and himself.

‘My pleasure Master Todd. Would you like anything else? A tea perhaps?’ Alfred smiled at Jason who was staring at a shelf of classics on the right side of the room.

Jason turned to him quickly whilst not abandoning his adoration of the collection in front of him. ‘No thank you, Alfred.’ To which Alfred quietly shut the door leaving Jason alone for the first time this evening.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Thumbing over the name tag of a shelf Jason smiled to himself. The silence that filled his ears and the grande room around him was calming in an oppressive manner and Jason found his fear disappearing into the atmosphere of the dimly lit room. Jason at first decided to investigate the whole room; walking through the front of the room, away from the door, he stepped into the crescent of the room which was framed by a large painting of Martha Wayne. Her infamous pearls dripped across her elegant neck and her hair was pulled up in a way that Jason could tell was slightly painful on the back of her head.

Turning to his left Jason stepped towards the large sash style glass door which curved in a dome at the top. Through the window, Jason could see the Manor’s large gardens which seemed to roll down from the manor and into what looked like an orchid which led to a dense and thick evergreen wood. Thinking to himself peacefully, Jason imagined the manor when it stood in the 18th century and he smiled softly at the thoughts of the classic romanticism which Wayne Manor presented.

Slowly slipping his jacket off and hanging it on the corner of the end of the red loveseat, which Jason had been eyeing up, Jason popped open the top button of his dress shirt and moved to the first bookshelf on the left of the room.

‘A b, A e, A n’ he moved his hand over the books trying to find what he was looking for. He let out a sigh as his fingers traced over the spine of what read as ‘Jane Austen’. Pulling the emerald book out he was happily surprised to realise it was Emma, the book he had been reading earlier and was shocked at the cover. He ran his fingers over the embroidery on the front cover and marveled at the one of a kind authenticity of this version, Bruce sure had a lot of money. Taking the book with him, Jason moved back to the loveseat and reclined back on to it; stretching his legs out so they did not touch the expensive material of the chair. Leaning his head back, he held the book out above his head and found where he had left off slipping back into the realm of fantasy and away from the reality of the evening.

~~~~~~~~~~~

‘I would like to make you aware Grayson,’ Damian smirked as he pulled his tiny tuxedo together in the middle, ‘That I have identified your paid harlot and have eyes on them all evening.’

Dick turned to Damian in shock, his kind blue eyes wide, ‘Damian! I thought we had this conversation?’ Dick seemed to shake his head in confusion as his dark hair fell forwards in his face. Pushing some hair back behind his ears, he now seemed annoyed at what he had been told. ‘Damian, I have never paid someone to have sexual intercourse with me.’ He tailored his words to the 14 year old next to him, although he was fairly sure that Damian knew more awful things in detail than Dick himself did. 

‘Grayson, Grayson…’ Damian tutted to himself whilst shaking his head. ‘I will never understand why you insist on malignantly lying to me. I could spot him from a mile away.’

Dick held his head in his hands. ‘Just tell me who he is or where he is.’ Damian raised an eyebrow to Dick before giving in to his older brothers pleading eyes.

‘He followed Alfred to the east corridor.’ He turned to face the rest of the ballroom. ‘Anyway, why do you care so-’ Dick was already gone and Damian almost felt jealous of the speed Dick walked away from their conversation. He pulled his dark hair back and crossed his arms angrily, he wished Grayson was as interested in Damian as he was with this new harlot.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Jason had definitely lost track of time and he felt himself sinking deep into the crimson loveseat as he turned the pages of Emma. His head was facing away from the large door and he turned from time to time to look out the window and watch as the trees below the manor blew around in the dark.

‘I may be an expert at Cluedo,’ A voice sounded behind Jason leading him to turn round in shock. ‘But I would have never guessed that it was the young bachelor, in the library, with the…’ The man in front of Jason looked around him and grabbed a trophy from a desk against the side of the wall. ‘With the trophy!’.

Jason sat in silence, his hips now twisted around to face Dick and his book abandoned. Cluedo...what? Jason didn’t know whether he was being picked up or literally murdered.

‘You know, Cluedo, the game where-where you guess what and who killed someone.’ His voice trailing off as he seemed to try and convince Jason that what he had just said made sense and was funny to some extent. Jason examined the man in front of him; lean but athletic, dark hair which framed his face and almost reached the back of his neck and a smile emphasised by two dimples just below his cheeks. Attractive for sure and sweet for days.

Releasing what he looked like Jason jumped up pushing his shirt back into his trousers and readjusting his white strip of hair which characteristically flopped over his forehead. ‘Honestly, I’m sorry I’ll leave.’ He went to walk past Dick who was only a bit short of his height.

‘No-no please, let me introduce myself. Dick Grayson.’ He smiled towards Jason who stared at him in awe. This was Bruce’s son, the Dick Grayson. Born from a tragedy similar to that of Bruce Dick was the son of a famous acrobat duo: The Flying Graysons. When the circus visited Gotham, which they probably shouldn’t have, Dick’s parents fell to their deaths leaving the young boy wailing next to their bodies. Luckily, Dick had been rescued by Bruce Wayne who, having been in the audience all evening and having witnessed this tragic tale, swooped in and raised him as a Wayne. And now he stood in front of Jason and had caught him reading in a near euphoric state in front of a painting of his dead adoptive Grandma. His actions look like another level of sus.

He worried what Dick thought of him as he stood so smiley in front of him.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Oh sweet love of god what treasure had Dick discovered hidden in his own Library. Be still his fluttering heartbeat and his stuttering words. Compose yourself Grayson he whispered in his head as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his trousers. After the failed joke he felt his knees stuttering and Dick watched the face of the man in front of him.

Damian, for sure knew Dick’s taste in men. Tall with broad shoulders and clearly worked muscles; Dick eyes were attached to his body scanning him up and down. The mystery man’s eyes were green but in an earthy sort of way and his hair was dark and pulled back apart from the striking white strand that fell in front of his eyes. It would be easy to label Dick as starstruck and he swallowed loudly as he gathered himself. He couldn’t let this man go without at least getting his number and he was adamant he would.

~~~~~~~~~~~

‘Jason Todd’ Jason placed his hand in front of him. ‘I am your father’s new driver, for Outlaw Sport.’ 

‘Of course!’ Dick chirped with a similar glittery smile to Wayne’s; taking Jason’s hand with extreme enthusiasm and shaking it widely. Jason watched as he pulled back and wiped his brow. ‘Please ignore my bad joke, I am fairly infamous in the department of dad comedy.’ 

‘You look fairly young for a dad, although-’ Jason went to mention Roy but was interrupted by a frantic Dick.

‘No, no, no.’ He was waving his hands around in front of him. ‘Not a dad, just bad at jokes.’ He laughed to himself softly as he fiddled with his fingers. Jason felt strangely comfortable with Dick, perhaps it was his face that Jason could appreciate or the well-fitted suit that emphasised his arms and waist.

‘I came to apologise.’ Dick continued to talk above Jason’s thoughts. ‘My brother made some comment to you about being my,’ Dick was now staring at Jason and Jason felt the way Dick’s eyes flicked to his unbuttoned collar, ‘my- prostitute.’ 

Suddenly, the fog cleared in his brain and he actually realised the humour of the situation. He let out a laugh and smiled at Dick. ‘So that little twerp is Wayne’s son. It explains a lot honestly.’

Dick moved his hand to lean on the table with the trophy on it. ‘I’m happy you're laughing I really wasn’t. You don’t understand the stress on my poor heart.’ He gave Jason a charismatic smile, his tone smooth.

‘It’s fine. It’s quite funny actually.’ Jason felt his face flush ever so slightly and turned his head to the side before breaking the silence. ‘This is a nice room, your butler dropped me here. I hadda’ headache and needed some peace.’

‘We barely use this one.’ Dick turned to look around mirroring Jason. ‘It’s the smallest of all the libraries in the manor.’ To which Jason reacted with a raised eyebrow and a slight smirk of his lips. Dick grinned at the look Jason gave him and he shrugged it off. ‘Honestly, I’m not a huge book fan.’

‘You should be.’ Jason nodded as he approached the bookshelf and ran a hand over a row of books. ‘You have some one-time copies here. I would love to have them myself.’

Dick jumped on Jason’s statement and blurted out. ‘Take some.’

‘Really?’

‘Of course.’ Dick replied. ‘No one else reads them, besides Bruce would never notice anyway.’ Jason walked back to the loveseat and grabbed Emma and passed it to Dick.

‘Imma take this one. It’s a classic. My favourite author.’ Jason was watching the way Dick flipped through it pretending to be interested.

‘I wouldn’t picture the hardcore racer as a fan of romance.’ Dick chirped at Jason smirking to himself as he passed the book back.

Jason cocked his head as he took it back. ‘It’s not a romance, it’s a book about a strong female protagonist and her struggles against an oppressive patriarchal society.’

Dick laughed and the sound was soft to Jason’s ears. They stood a foot apart for what felt like a decade before they both turned their heads towards the door. Footsteps were slowly approaching.

‘I don’t wanna go back yet.’ Jason whispered under his breath to Dick. Jason watched Dick’s eyes flickering and suddenly Dick was moving past him towards the sash window Jason had noted from before. He pulled the handle up before pushing it down and throwing the door open.

Jason heard the steps getting closer and looked to Dick who was standing confidently on the grass of the lawn. He really should not sneak off with his backer’s hot son but here he was; definitely contemplating it.

‘Come on you big wimp!’ Dick grabbed Jason’s hand before Jason could make the choice and yanked his arm pulling him outside onto the lawn. Letting go of the door it slammed shut with the wind and Jason gave Dick an alarmed look before Dick set off running across the lawn pulling Jason with him. 

‘I know someplace where no one will find us!’ He laughed, the muggy June air hot against Jason’s throat, his hand clutching at the copy of Emma against his chest; he had left his blazer hanging on the loveseat and he felt rather exposed...not cold as the temperature of the day had clung on into the evening.

Jason wasn’t paying attention to where he was being led but at this point, the two men had dipped down below the lawn and through the fruit orchid. Dick was laughing like a young child enjoying the rebellious nature of running away from his father’s own event and Jason admired how Dick grabbed the trunk of a tree and swung round it in a showy manner. Dick then rejoined the tiled path from the top of the lawn and he pulled Jason round behind a hedge.

‘There is no reason anyone should come out here.’ He breathed heavily as he slowed down. They were now at the very bottom of the garden and Jason looked in amazement as Dick headed towards an old bottle-green conservatory that was hidden under an arching branch of a tree. It was something straight out of any of his favourite novels.

Pushing the creaky door open Dick grinned at Jason over his shoulder. The floor was tiled and cracked slightly, the sign of good use Jason supposed. At just about Jason’s midarm there were raised beds which had some withering plants with small flowers protruding from their leaves. As Jason followed Dick further into the Conservatory he noticed beds on the floor which were spilling with weeds and a couple of flowers which looked like they had been trodden on. Dick sat down on a bench opposite some Russian Ivy climbing up a wooden trellis and he signaled for Jason to sit with him. As he sat Jason let out a long sigh and let his head fall back and just touch the glass.

‘Was that too much running for you?’ Dick nudged his arm playfully.

Jason laughed softly, ‘You were more frolicking than running.’ sitting up to rest his head on his palm and to smile at Dick.

‘I love the silence you get in here.’ Dick looked around him. ‘I don’t know about you but I barely get any silence. People love to gossip especially about B and his various,’ he took a breath, ‘various endeavours. I talk to the press so Damian doesn’t have to.’ Jason smiled at that, it was cute that Dick protected his brother so much considering he was a literal demon. Devil child. Demon spawn.

‘When I’m racing you would assume that it’s really loud, but it’s honestly so silent and it’s nice cos I get a break from everything. My mind only focuses on the road and it’s only when I get distracted by stuff that shit goes wrong.’

Dick’s voice turned serious as if Jason had hit a nerve. ‘Racing is stupid and dangerous. Every time you get in to drive you are taking a risk by putting your hands in the life of a heartless machine.’

‘I-’ Jason went to argue the point, racing was everything to him and the reason he had crashed was due to his own arrogance, but a large clap of thunder silenced him and both of the boys jumped looking up towards what was now a grey cloudy sky. Hot weather often did lead to storms. The rain then began to tip down on the roof of the conservatory and it made many little tapping sounds. 

In an attempt to lighten the mood Dick stood up and pulled Jason with him spinning him round in a circle. ‘Come on Jay! Raindance with me!’ Dick was laughing now spinning round and moving his feet in time with the falling rain. Jason stood in shock before summoning enough courage to grab Dick’s hands, which were extended out to him, and spin round the Conservatory with him.

At some point, they ended up on different sides of the flower bed and Dick was chasing Jason through the rows of raised beds. He got close a couple times, grabbing onto the back of Jason’s trousers before Jason pulled away again. Jason’s back had hit the glass and before he could even imagine it Dick was pressed up against him, his legs sliding between Jason’s thighs. Trying to slow his beating heart, Jason was breathing hard and he tilted his head back showing Dick the great expanse of pale skin there.

Dick’s eyes were deep as he leaned closer to Jason, the rain hammering down at this point and Jason managed to whisper out to him. ‘Dick- I don’t think…’. To which Dick’s eyes went vacant and stared over Jason’s shoulder.

‘Do you know this guy?’ He asked, pulling back ever so slightly. Jason turned slowly to see a soaked Roy Harper standing in the rain holding Jason’s blazer from earlier; his eyes were glaring straight at Jason and were slightly annoyed but he could tell by the smirk on Roy’s face that deep down this was funny to him.

‘That means I have to go.’ Jason smiled ducking under Dick to his dismay and walking towards the door abandoning his copy of Emma on the bench. Dick went to pick the book up but Jason was already leaving.

‘Goodbye Dick, see you around.’ He smiled as Roy dragged him out of the Conservatory into the pouring rain.

Dick felt his fickle heart drop as the redhead dragged Jason by the collar across the lawn. He looked at the copy of Emma in his hand. He had an excuse to see him again.

~~~~~~~~~~~

‘You know you should be grateful, I stopped you from hooking up with Wayne’s son, it would have caused shit.’ Roy had thrown Jason into the passenger seat of his old jeep and driven as fast as possible out of the driveway of Wayne Manor. He was soaked to his shirt and his pink skin was peeking out from underneath the thin fabric. Both of their blazers were hanging on hooks in the back of the car and Jason was watching out of the car window in the continuous rain.

‘We weren’t hooking up, we just found a quiet place to chill.’ Jason grumbled below his breath.

Roy laughed. ‘Don’t shit me Jason, that man was all over you, he definitely had things planned.’ To which Jason pouted at him before shifting back around to face forwards. He felt Dick’s breath on his neck and how it marked up his throat.

‘Please, if you can help it, don’t get involved with him. We have a lot of people to beat this season and extra personal baggage will not help us. You would have noticed that if you hadn’t snuck off without us.’ Roy was shaking his wet hair slightly as he put the car in gear and merged onto the highway back to Gotham Central.

Jason looked at Roy with honest and pleading eyes, ‘Honestly, I talked with Roman and then- then you were all gone.’ The silence between them was uncomfortable. Roy sighed, looking at him for a second.

‘Whatever Jaybird, what’s done is done. You better be okay with sleeping on my couch cos I’m not driving you home at this hour.’ He smiled at Jason out of the corner of his eye and put his left fist out.

‘Thanks Roy,’ he said softly before yawning out loud. He looked down at Roy’s fist and bumped it with his own. ‘Here’s to the renaissance of modern racing.’ Roy threw a hand up into the air in a sorta cheer or toast and grinned.

‘To the birth of Outlaw Sport and the beginning of our season.’ He shouted.

‘Rebirth!’ Jason echoed him and as Roy began to chant their team's names Jason’s mind drifted back to Dick and the way he stared at him against the glass of the conservatory. Some sort of feeling began to slowly eat away at his stomach and he decided that perhaps for the first time in a while it would be best to fill the silence rather than let it hang above him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos appreciated!


	4. Animation and inertia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘You must be daddy’s friend!’ The girl was now pulling Jason’s hand in a yanking fashion and when he didn’t get up she began to pinch Jason’s fingers one by one. Roy was right this kid was a devil, perhaps not as bad as Wayne's son but that really wasn’t difficult.
> 
> Jason shook his hand free of her small fingers and sat up on the sofa, watching as the girl climbed up onto the end of the sofa once more to stare at him with her green jewel eyes.
> 
> ‘My name is Jason.’ He smiled at her holding out his hand in a mock gesture.
> 
> She grabbed his hand and shook it with both of her small hands clasped over his one comically big hand. ‘My name is Lian.’ She gave him a grin showing him her gummy smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone! this chapter is a bit shorter cos I am on holiday but I hope you enjoy.
> 
> p.s. if anyone harms Lian I will kill them. protect Lian Harper!
> 
> kudos and comments appreciated :)
> 
> stay safe and wear a mask <3

Roy Harper’s apartment was at the top of a sleek looking building in central Gotham; not that far from Jason’s own home. As the sun flooded through the floor to ceiling windows of Roy’s apartment the light flickered over Jason’s sleeping face and he felt the warmth of morning life as he began to come to. Turning over on the sofa, Jason hitched one leg up over a cushion and watched as his shorts rose up above his thigh. Resting his eyes he nestled deeper into the cushion and wished for sleep to drag him back down into its deep well of darkness. 

On a normal day Jason would be up by now and pushing his limits in a hard workout; his breath quick and muscles sore. A lie in was rare for a driver as, although not viewed by many, F1 drivers were definitely classed as pro athletes. Jason’s most distinct memory of the first time he jumped in a car was the feeling of his head being thrown back against the seat as 5-6 G tickled the sides of his temples, tempting him to let go and blackout. Jason also remembers the stark fear which rushed through him as he realised how heavy the brake was and how his left leg struggled to push the break down.

As Jason began to drift off once more, to the sweet memories of his early manhood, he was surprised at the feeling of something climbing over the sofa. Before he had the chance to turn over he felt two small feet land on his back and two similarly small hands ran into his hair and pulled on it harshly.

‘Christ!’ Jason groaned as the fat fingers in his hair tightened around the slight curls.

‘You aren’t my daddy.’ A small voice chirped behind him and pulled his head back even further. ‘Why are you on daddy’s sofa? That’s our sofa!’ Jason, still half asleep, smiled to himself. This must be Roy’s little girl and she seemed just as vicious as Roy had described. 

‘I’m your dad’s friend, please let me go.’ Jason didn’t want to jostle her around but was hoping she would get off of his back on her own accord.

The grip in Jason’s hair began to loosen and she made a humming sound before leaning down and tugging Jason’s head back in a sharp motion. ‘If you're daddy’s friend then what’s his favourite type of ice cream?’ She seemed satisfied with her interrogation of the mysterious man on the sofa.

Jason grimaced. Was Roy a vanilla guy? No. Chocolate didn’t seem his sorta style and neither did something fruity. As Jason kept thinking over it he felt the grip in his hair growing tighter once more. Jason’s mind flicked back to the gala and he remembered the drink Roy had been finishing when Jason sat next to him at the bar; it had been a red colour, fruity, with a similar texture to a slushie.

‘Strawberry!’ Jason held his breath in hope that he was correct.  
The girl let go of his hair and slid off of Jason's back. ‘You must be daddy’s friend!’ She was now pulling Jason’s hand in a yanking fashion and when he didn’t get up she began to pinch Jason’s fingers one by one. Roy was right this kid was a devil, perhaps not as bad as Wayne's son but that really wasn’t difficult.

Jason shook his hand free of her small fingers and sat up on the sofa, watching as the girl climbed up onto the end of the sofa once more to stare at him with her green jewel eyes.

‘My name is Jason.’ He smiled at her holding out his hand in a mock gesture.

She grabbed his hand and shook it with both of her small hands clasped over his one comically big hand. ‘My name is Lian.’ She gave him a grin showing him her gummy smile. ‘I am also hungry, so I am going to wake daddy and tell him you’re hungry so he should wake up.’ Jason grabbed his phone and turned to the clock app, it was six, far too early to wake Roy. Lian was once more throwing herself back over the sofa, chubby limbs flailing, and Jason swiftly got up from his makeshift bed and moved around the sofa blocking the way to Roy,

‘Daddy is still asleep, let's not wake him.’ 

‘But Jay, you're hungry?’ Lian smirked at him, her eyes twinkling in the same way her fathers did.

‘I can cook you something?’ Jason continued to hold Lian back from Roy’s room and after hearing Jason she had stopped trying to crawl between his legs.

She jumped up with her arms in the air. ‘Really? I want pancakes, daddy always cooks me pancakes!’ Jason lifted her up into his arms and carried Lian over to the kitchen area of the apartment. The walls were very obviously drawn on and Lian’s drawings seemed to frame the various pictures of her and Roy. On the windowsill just behind the sink, Jason noticed a photo with a pearly frame. The woman was obviously Lian’s mother and she had a hand wrapped around Roy’s waist; her hip-length jet black hair made Roy’s attempt at longer hair seem pathetic and her eyes seemed distant, not in the present as Roy’s were.

Setting Lian down on the countertop Jason turned to rummage through paint-covered cupboards. He needed a pan for Lian’s pancakes and was struggling to find anything other than colourful plastic bowls.

Lian kicked her legs on the counter and swayed her head from side to side, her loose plaits swinging over her shoulders. Jason turned to the five-year-old, ‘Lian where are your pans?’ To which Lian shrugged and continued to loudly bang her feet against the cupboard below the counter. The door was opening and closing with the force, the sound itching at Jason’s skull, and as the sound crescendoed to a peak; Jason whipped around and grabbed her feet while stilling the action. ‘Please Lian, your dad is still sleeping.’

‘But you're taking forever!’ She stuck her bottom lip out in protest. Jason’s brain was screaming at this point and he scanned through some shelves. on the left side of him, looking desperately for a frying pan. He made a small ‘ah-hah’ like sound when his hand felt the metal handle of the pan. Next, he grabbed some oil from below the windowsill and poured a small amount into the middle of the heat. Shuffling over to the fridge Jason pulled out milk and a carton of eggs, he hoped that Roy wouldn’t mind him if he used the produce although Roy’s fridge looked fairly dead so he would be surprised if Roy even noticed the missing items. Mixing the dry and wet ingredients together was fairly satisfying; Jason adored the way the batter began to ‘gloop’ together and fall away from the whisk, which he had found in a deserted cupboard below the hob.

Pouring a dollop of mixture into the middle of the pan, he began to think of what he could do for toppings; at home, his favourite was always banana and caramel but Roy didn’t seem to have anything that could pass as a banana. ‘Lian, what do you want on your pancakes sweetheart?’

No answer. How much time had passed whilst he was lost in his love for cooking. Picking up his phone he saw the time was now coming up to seven.

Jason turned to find Roy’s devil child had jumped down from the surface and had somehow, to Jason’s horror, managed to cling onto the ceiling fan. Her small feet were still attached to the sofa but her eyes seemed to communicate the fact she was about to jump, perhaps breaking the fan in the process.

He rushed forwards and scooped Lian back into his arms, leaving the pancakes to sizzle away softly in the background, ‘Please stay here.’, he sat her down at the small dining table in front of another large floor to ceiling window. The words ‘I never want kids.’ echoed around his brain as a reminder never to adopt or procreate.

‘I want Nutella!’ Lian waved her hands about and she seemed to be staring at the way Jason pushed the pan about on the hob.

‘Watch this.’ Jason grinned pulling the pan away from the heat. Lian’s eyes sparkled in amazement as Jason flipped the pancake into the air and caught it perfectly. She threw her chubby arms up as Jason caught the pancake, returning it to the heat, and clapped enthusiastically.

Considering Lian’s dare devilish behaviour Jason felt the most comfortable sliding the pancake onto a plastic plate rather than a proper plate. He inhaled heavily breathing in the sweet scent of his labours and passed the plate to Lian, before spreading a large spoon of Nutella on top of it. Jason had never seen a pancake eaten in such a violent way and he gawked as Lian tore it apart in seconds, her fingers covered in Nutella.

‘Hmmm.’ Jason looked up to hear Roy groan as he stepped out of his bedroom and stretched his arms up, revealing pale abs beneath his rising shirt. ‘I can’t remember the last time we had pancakes?’ Roy smiled at Jason before planting a kiss on Lian’s head and nuzzling his nose into her dark hair. ‘Is that yums monster?’ He asked her.

‘More please!’ Her chocolate-covered mouth spluttered out. 

Jason stared at her and then to Roy. The only reason he was doing all this was that Lian told him they had pancakes all the time.

He pointed the spatula he was holding at Roy, unconsciously sliding another pancake onto Lian’s plate, ‘Lian told me you always cook her pancakes in the morning.’ Roy laughed as he continued to spread a new spoonful of Nutella, Lian’s hungry eyes glistening..

‘You're a smart monster.’ Roy pressed another kiss to her hair to which Lian looked at Jason with apologetic but also smirking eyes. ‘Master manipulator of men...just like her mother.’ He smiled at Jason as he got up and stood at Jason’s side, pulling two mugs out of a high up cupboard. ‘Coffee?’ He gestured the mug towards Jason.

‘Yes, please.’ Jason had replied, flipping another pancake for the greedy monster at the table. Although he felt swindled by Lian’s trick he found himself relaxing into Harper's domestic state and was only snapped out of it when he heard Roy turn on a rather expensive coffee machine.

Perhaps Jason should retire from racing and become a housewife. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

‘I have a feeling this season is gonna be good for us.’ Roy smiled as he poured a generous amount of milk into his coffee, stirring it until the liquid turned to a soft caramel-like colour.

Jason took a sip of his coffee, which contradicted Roy’s camel brown, dark like the well of sleep he had dreamed of before. Roy had rolled out a playmate for Lian which mimicked a race track with its very own pits and control rooms; she grasped a car in one hand and a teddy in the other and traced the lines of the track with the toy.

‘Our management seems sound and I know we have the talent.’ Roy smiled back at Lian who Jason had been watching for a small moment. 

Jason turned to look out the window at Gotham central, his own apartment was located in East Gotham so he wasn’t charmed with the view of Wayne Tower and other various skyscrapers every single morning, unlike Roy.

‘We will have to put the work in though.’ Jason sighed, reminded of the way his muscles ached after a workout. 

‘At least we have each other.’ Roy replied, pulling his laptop out and pushing the chrome lid up. His screensaver was a picture of Lian in a swimming costume, the bottoms a pink tutu, her hand shoved deep into the sand, and a smile that implied that she was laughing loudly. Roy clicked open his files and showed Jason his workout regime, turning the laptop to face Jason. 

‘I don’t have a rowing machine.’ Jason said after reading the first set which consisted of an hour and a half of various rowing style exercises, meant for building up your arm and neck muscles most importantly. A strong neck, however comical it sounds is very important in F1 due to the sheer weight of the helmet on the aforementioned neck. 

‘Neither,’ Roy took a breath, ‘but I’m hoping that if we ask Wayne nicely we can use the new gym of his in Wayne tower. It’s meant for employees but there’s no reason we shouldn’t be allowed to use it.’

‘I see you’ve done your research.’ Jason drawled, mocking Lex’s tone from the night before.

‘I like my racers to be prepared.’ Roy volleyed back as he sucked the last dregs of coffee out of his cup. ‘All jokes aside, we will have a training camp in a couple of weeks so it might be nice to get prepared for that.’

Ah yes training camp Jason remembered clearly. On the first day of training camp, after being forced to run on a treadmill for three hours with his scarlet helmet on, he collapsed. They said it was just because he was unfit but Jason knew it was because he didn’t have enough money to eat breakfast, lunch and dinner so he thought that skipping breakfast would be the least painful. He was wrong.

‘Daddy, Jay!’ Lian interrupted their moment of silence. ‘The race is about to start, are you going to watch?’ She looked up at the two men hopefully.

‘Of course monster.” Roy slipped off the chair and sat cross-legged on the floor, just in front of the mat. Jason grabbed Lian’s makeshift helmet and pushed it onto the teddies head; his fur peeking out from the cardboard box. She sat the teddy on top of the car and held it in anticipation of something. They sat in silence for a moment.

‘Daddy the lights!’ Lian whispered to which Roy rolled his eyes.

‘Okay munchkin.’ Jason saw the way Lian watched Roy’s lips and he felt his own adrenaline almost kick into action as if he was the teddy with the cardboard helmet. ‘Red, red, red,’ Roy mimicked the way the lights lit up at the start of a race. ’Red, red, red, red.’ The ‘reds’ came further apart as they got closer to the green. Three more to go Jason thought. ‘Red….red…redddddd’ Roy pulled out the last letter of red as Lian practically bounced up and down ready to start.

‘Green!’ Roy jumped at Lian and she screamed as she began to race the car around the track, skidding the back wheels around the corners as the teddy bounced at her not so delicate racing. She passed the line and went for lap 2 and then lap 3 and then lap 4.

Roy smirked at Jason before mimicking having a headset on and saying. ‘Pit, pit, pit, teddy into the pit.’ Something Jason had heard many a time.

Lian looked at him with a confused expression. ‘But daddy teddy is fine, he doesn’t need to go into the pit.’ 

To which Roy raised an eyebrow before putting his imaginary headset back on. ‘Your tires are looking a bit soft teddy, you may need to change them.’ Lian having heard this nodded speeding back around the corner and practically throwing the car into the pits.

‘Quickly Jay!’ Lian basically screamed and in a moment of sudden confusion, Jason looked around to see what he was meant to be doing.

Roy laughed. ‘Looks like you’re our pit crew.’ Jason having now understood what Lian meant pushed himself over to where Lian was and put the imaginary new tires onto the car. 

‘That was way too slow Jay. You are gonna have to work on that.’ She scowled at him before throwing the car back around the track. 

‘Daddy?’ Lian stopped the car lying onto her back, tired for once. ‘If both of you and Jay are racing who is the best?’ Jason seemed to flush with embarrassment, Roy and Jason haven’t discussed who the number one and the number two were. Of course, he wanted to be the number one but he also recognised that Roy was probably more reliable, performance-wise, than Jason ever was.

‘Jason is the fastest.’ Roy smiled at Lian. ‘I’m his number two, which means I defend his position whilst he goes really, really fast.’ He had pulled Lian into his lap and now her body was sagging against his, her early and energetic morning catching up with her. 

‘Roy-‘ Jason went to say something about the fact that nothing was confirmed and that Roy was just as deserving as he was.

Roy shook his head. ‘It’s an honour to race as your second Jason, don’t even dare say you don’t deserve it.’ He ran his hands through Lian's hair as she seemed to slip into a light sleep.

Jason’s busy mind was calmed by Roy’s words and the three of them sat in silence, Roy and Jason watching the way Lian’s chest rose and fell. The apartment was filled with a sense of inertia which would contradict the week ahead of them.

~~~~~~~~~~~

After Roy had tucked Lian back into bed for her mid-morning nap, he had offered Jason a shower before he left for his own apartment in East Gotham. Jason had taken Roy’s offer with a smile and grabbed a fluffy towel. Before his shower, Jason had noticed that he had no other clothes than his suit and remembered that the pajamas he was wearing were really Roy’s. 

‘Roy.’ He whispered, remembering that Lian was snoozing peacefully in her room. Roy’s head popped around the corner of the hallway and he cocked his head to the side. ‘Imma need more clothes or a hoodie?’ Roy soon disappeared from Jason’s sight and he returned round the corner, throwing a red hoodie to him.

‘You can bring the clothes back next time you’re here.’ He whispered back, scared to wake the monster.

As Jason shut the bathroom door his heart swelled at the thought of Roy wanting him to come back to his apartment. Roy seemed to actually like Jason, something that Jason felt was very rare but seemed to be growing in probability over the past couple of months. 

Pulling the shorts over his thighs onto the floor, he stepped into the shower and slid the door behind him. Jason turned the shower on and sighed loudly as the water hit his skin. Cupping some water in his hands he splashed it on his face and took a moment to let the water run over his body as he took a couple of deep breaths, inhaling the steam.

The shower above his head continued to pour down, reaching for the shampoo and beginning to scrub it into his scalp. He tipped his head back and a sort of groan rippled out of his throat, his mind wandering as his hands slipped through his hair. Jason could almost feel someone's breath on his neck, a thumb tracing letters into his hip and another hand running up to his chest. 

When Jason closed his eyes he imagined it was Dick; mouthing sweet words into his neck with his perfect lips, the sounds of the water hitting the floor similar to the way the rain had hit the roof of the conservatory. His back pressed flush against Dick muscular torso, Jason felt his pulse quickening, as blood rushed round his body in a way that showed he was losing control quickly. Jason lent forward, his breath quick, and grasped onto the shower, turning it cold to shock the lust out of him. He couldn’t do this in Roy’s home, perhaps his own, but not Roy’s.

As he turned the shower off he flushed softly at the thought of Dick knowing what had just happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Oh to be a butterfly and float upon the wind of love without fear of disturbance. Dick pulled his hair back into some sort of small bun and threw himself back onto a plush sofa. Turning on his side, his shirt hanging open due to the loose top buttons, he grabbed the copy of Emma from the side and held it to his chest as he lay, stretched out on the sofa. 

Damian stared at Dick from the doorway and sighed loudly, his tight shirt contradicting Dick’s flamboyantly loose one. ‘Grayson, Grayson, Grayson.’ he tutted to himself. ‘You will never change. Who are you in love with now?’

Dick sat up in shock and shook his head defiantly. ‘I am not in love Damian, I simply met someone who I liked.’ 

‘Sure Grayson.’ Damian went to leave before looking back into the room. ‘You’re so fickle.’

Dick fell back with a sigh and scrubbed his face with his hands, grasping the book to his chest he felt his heart tug at the emotional tie between himself and his predestined racer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos and comments appreciated :)
> 
> hope you love Lian as much as I do!
> 
> stay safe and wear a mask <3


	5. Sunshine and rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the bastard child of a billionaire playboy, Damian was sure to gain attention quickly but Bruce and Dick had sheltered their youngest away until it was safe for him to emerge from the shadows. At the time, Damian remembered the pain of being coddled like a baby; it wasn't the same as when his mother had massaged his scalp and kissed his hair, this was more oppressive. However, turning to look at Dick as they left the drive of Wayne Manor, Damian smiled to himself. As cringe as cringe can be Damian had almost found a new mother in Richard, hating to admit it of course. He was as scalding as possible when talking to his brother but Grayson refused to give in; showing Damian nothing but acceptance every single day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I hope you have had a good week and that you enjoy this chapter as much as I have. All races and stuff like that will be inspired by real races, as I am fairly new to this, so I just wanted to mention that.
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated :)
> 
> Stay safe and wear a mask <3

The morning summer wind passed through the orchard below Wayne Manor, the sound rushing up through the open window of Damian Wayne’s bedroom. Damian lay in his king-sized bed below the window and stirred slightly as the wind touched his cheek. He nestled deeper below his duvet, weighed down by two thick blankets; cold Gotham nights were not Damian’s favourite. Opening his eyes slowly, he yawned and turned onto his back; his dark hair ruffled and stuck up in the air. He rubbed his eyes as he sat up in bed and shivered, twisting around to close the window; although Alfred had insisted that the window must stay open as ‘you will pass out from heat exhaustion Master Damian’. 

When Damian had lived in Dubai with his mother, he had enjoyed the heat of the desert in which his mother’s house was hidden. He still remembered how the sun beat down on his deep skin and how comfortable he felt coddled in his mother’s arms; not a care in the world, happy to be at one with the land around him. Even when in the shadow of the tall buildings in the city, there was a silent comfort of being surrounded by constant warmth. In contrast, his mother's stare grew colder as he grew taller and soon her attitude was summarised with the sentence ‘You are going to live with your father, pack a bag.’

Adjusting his shirt in the mirror Damian frowned at the memory, luckily his father had bought him underlayers to wear whenever he got too cold after realising that was the reason Damian shivered so often. He grabbed his camera and pulled it around his neck before rushing out of his room and turning right, along the corridor towards the south wing of the manor; his feet padding over the artisan carpet which lined the corridor. 

Damian turned to the left, past a painting of one of his ancient grandfathers, and stopped at the mahogany door in front of him. This room was almost adjacent to his fathers and in a sense it mirrored the master bedroom, imitating its grandeur in a more comfortable manner.

His knuckles rapped on the door rhythmically, crossing his arms when no one replied, he frowned to himself. Stepping forwards, he knocked once more but with more of a threatening sound. ‘Grayson!’ He shouted at the door angrily. Silence filled the corridor. Taking a breath, Damian pushed the door open, ‘Grayson! It’s Thursday.’ He demanded before registering the scene before him.

Dick’s room was painted a baby blue colour, something he had definitely chosen when Bruce had first adopted him. His bed was massive and Damian smirked at the thought of a ten-year-old Dick Grayson smothered by a goose feather duvet, in a bed which at least tripled his own size. Grayson was rather peculiar in the fact that he had been an acrobat at a young age and so Bruce had paid a lot of money to have someone fit an aerial hoop to Dick’s ceiling. So although it was still a jarring image, Damian was not surprised to find his older brother draped backwards through the ring, a mask covering his eyes whilst he listened to what seemed to be some sort of meditation track. 

Dick stretched a leg up over the top of the ring causing it to spin slightly, as he pulled his mask off of his eyes to see Damian. ‘Give me five minutes little D.’ He pulled his hips up which left him spinning around once more, to Damian’s annoyance.

‘If we don’t leave now Grayson, all the dogs will be gone. On average, dog walkers arrive at the park at around,’ he looked at his watch, ‘seven-thirty. We only have an hour to get there.’ Damian did not understand how Grayson managed to forget the routine although they did it every single Thursday morning. Grayson flipped back round towards Damian, holding on to the top bar and sliding off of the bottom one back to the floor. 

Pulling his mask off, he walked past Damian out of his bedroom. ‘Let’s go then.’

‘You need to get dressed, Grayson.’ Damian trotted behind him frantically waving his arms in the air.

‘It’s not like anyone's going to see me little D, I’m just dropping you off.’ Dick shrugged, pushing a wayward strand of hair down after spotting it when they passed a mirror. Dick half jumped down the stairs to the main entrance. ‘Anyway, I’m your older brother, I’m meant to embarrass you.’ He winked at Damian before mentioning to Alfred that they were leaving and he would be back in an hour.

Damian thumped his foot down on the floor, showing his impatience. Dick would like Damian to be a baby bunny and smiled at his little brother, who stared at him in a way which would cause death to anyone who wasn’t used to it. Damian jumped ahead of Dick running down more stairs to the basement and was rushing towards Dick’s car in a way which reminded Dick of the way Dick would pull at Bruce’s hand to get to the toy shop faster. Clicking the car open, Damian threw his backpack behind the front seat and slid down into the seat, watching as Dick looked at his phone for a second.

‘Grayson!’ Dick jumped at Damian and shoved his phone back into his pocket.

‘Sorry, sorry.’ He smiled as he shut the door and turned the engine on. Damian closed his eyes as Dick drove them out of the garage, the door opening automatically showing the wealth that Wayne possessed. 

The sound of the gravel against the tires reminded Damian of the first time he arrived at Wayne manor. The gates intimidating and his father towering over him with a confused look. Damian remembered trying to hold back his tears as he heard his mother drive away, gravel crunching as she moved around the fountain. But to focus only on the negative of moving would be unfair. Damian remembered how Dick had engulfed him in love whenever he looked scared, he had advised him on everything one needed to know as a Wayne and had made sure to make Damian’s transition into the family as smooth as possible.

As the bastard child of a billionaire playboy, Damian was sure to gain attention quickly but Bruce and Dick had sheltered their youngest away until it was safe for him to emerge from the shadows. At the time, Damian remembered the pain of being coddled like a baby; it wasn't the same as when his mother had massaged his scalp and kissed his hair, this was more oppressive. However, turning to look at Dick as they left the drive of Wayne Manor, Damian smiled to himself. As cringe as cringe can be Damian had almost found a new mother in Richard, hating to admit it of course. He was as scalding as possible when talking to his brother but Grayson refused to give in; showing Damian nothing but acceptance every single day. 

Although Grayson was definitely Damian’s favourite person ever, there were many things about him which were just infuriating. For example, his fashion sense; Grayson was extremely attractive but refused to try and look good at all, dropping Damian at the park was a pyjama sort of situation obviously. The only time Dick tried to look good was for the press, but to a greater extent for his lovers; when Grayson became infatuated with a person he would spend hours getting ready, making sure to look good for whoever he admired. Damian also hated Dick’s music, which at the moment was being blasted at nearly full volume, making Damian almost vibrate in his seat.

Dick’s arm was resting on the open car window as the wind blew his hair backwards. His singing was awful but Damian had become accustomed to the way he wailed whenever Bon Jovi was played. This was the deal. Dick dropped Damian at the dog park at an ‘insane time in the morning’ and Dick got to play whatever insufferable music he wanted on the way there. It also almost part of the agreement that they would not address each other on the way there, both enjoying the silent noise of the wind as it rushed past them. 

Dick turned off of the freeway at the junction before Gotham central, driving in the direction of East Gotham, where Damian’s favourite dog park lay. Winding through the blocks, they got some looks from everyday Gothamites, East Gotham was the roughest part of Gotham and Dick was driving a Porsche which was definitely a rare sight in this sector of Gotham. Dick pulled up next to the park, which was a nice box-like shape of grass between two small apartment buildings and what looked like offices, Damian stepped out of the car; silently acknowledging Dick in the secret sort of language they used.

Damian shut the door and walked through the fence towards his favourite bench to sit at. Before Damian could sit down he heard an engine revving and looked round to see Grayson waving at him. Flushing a deep red, Damian watched as Dick turned the volume up in the car and mouthed the words of the song to him as he drove off. 

‘Grayson.’ Damian growled under his breath as he hid his expression from the one or two other people in the park at, he looked at his watch, eight-fifteen. Slumping down onto the bench, Damian rubbed his hands together, pulling a flask of Karkadeh out from his bag, which Pennyworth had very kindly prepared for him knowing how cold Damian got, taking a sip of the warm drink as he settled into the bench.

Every Thursday Damian would be dropped at the dog park to take pictures of various dogs as number one, he loved animals and number two he needed references for when he painted. His father had encouraged this weekly outing as a way for Damian to see Gotham, his birthright, and a change from the many walls of the manor, Bruce’s emphasis on the four walls of Damian’s bedroom which he bordered himself into at some point each week to his father's dismay.

Damian’s had never been as good as Grayson. His eyes rolled back into his head, during the gala he had struggled to be as charming as the rest of his family and found himself choking on words which lodged themselves deep into his throat. When he had lived with his mother, he had avoided the socialisation which the experience of he now craved. He had never learnt how to ‘speak’ to people in a way which didn’t come across as accusatory and aggressive. His mother communicated with him non-verbally, basking in the silence of the midday sun, they learnt how to speak without saying a word. Perhaps that is why he felt comfortable when he sat next to Grayson. He appreciated silence as well.

The morning bustle of the Gotham streets was announcing itself as people began to emerge from their homes and Damian watched as they looked up to the sky, assessing the clouds and the probability of rain. Looking up himself, his hands tight around the metal flask, Damian was assured that although cloudy the sun was poking out slightly from behind the floating fluff. 

Damian looked through his backpack checking what Pennyworth had prepared for him. What looked like pitta bread and dip wrapped in tinfoil, another water bottle full of clear liquid, some money stuffed into a leather wallet, trainers for if he wanted to run home and a raincoat which Damian rolled his eyes at. Sure, it was Gotham but it was summer, why would it rain?

A teenager with long blonde hair was pulled into the park by two devil-like Alsatians and she almost tripped as she was yanked across the park. She looked around Damian’s age, her pale skin contrasting his own, dark roots exposing her box dye locks. Damian watched her and flushed as she acknowledged him, pulling a long strand of hair behind her ear, whilst attempting to steady herself.

Damian grabbed his camera and waved her over to him, she stumbled overlooking slightly confused as to why a random stranger was waving him over. ‘May I take a picture of your dogs?’ Damian tried to sound kind as he asked her.

‘Uhhh-’ she cocked her head at him, a strong narrows accent ringing from her throat. ‘I’m sure that’s ‘kay.’ She stepped back pulling the dark dogs in and posed for Damian. 

Pulling back from his camera Damian said neutrally. ‘Not you. Just the dogs.’

‘Oh...’ She looked shocked dropping the leads and crossing her arms as she waited for Damian’s camera to click. Damian lined the centre up and crouched down so that he could get the park in the background of the photo. The dogs looked away and he whistled shortly, their heads snapping back to him, ears pointed up at ninety-degree angles. Damian heard the click sound of the photo being taken and stepped back to admire his work.

‘Thanks.’ He said shortly whilst sitting back down onto the bench. The girl picked up the leads, watching him with a confused look.

‘I thought you wanted my number?’ She stood obviously shooting her shot with the young Wayne.

Damian looked up at her with a furrowed brow, ‘No thanks.’, looking back down towards his camera he didn’t even notice the girls hurried exit from the park. What’s the problem with her? He thought to himself after looking up to see her absence. Admiring his photos, he smiled to himself, the alsatians coats dark, reminding him of drinking cocoa in the living room of Wayne Manor, plush sofas engulfing him, Grayson’s plump upper lip covered in foam.

Damian pulled his legs up into a cross and held his palms out. It would be about an hour before anyone else strolled into the park, meditation was a good way of passing the time until he reached lunch. Closing his eyes, Damian steadied his breath letting himself slip into a sense of calm. Floating in the summer breeze, he was one with the busting mid-morning. Mother had taught him to meditate to combat the antsy nerves he inherited from his father, or so she said.

Damian remembered when his Grandfather had hit his mother across the face, for some undisclosed reason, and the sound of pain she made as she hit the floor echoed through his mind. Hot tears had poured from the wells of his tears and he shook in fear of the man standing over him, his mother recovering on the ground, looking down he felt wetness spread over his shorts and realised that he had urinated. Shame rippled through his six-year-old body and Talia looked to his trembling form, she had to save Damian. She had known from that point in time that their fragile time together was coming to an end.

Damian shook the memory away to find himself shivering ever so slightly, the sun well hidden behind a cloud at this point, he looked down at his watch; it was eleven-thirty already and upon looking up he saw many dogs running around in front of him.

He jumped up off the bench and walked towards various owners, asking if he could photograph their pups. The shutter clicked over and over as he zoomed in and out on canines of many different shapes and sizes, his favourite being a gigantic great dane which would scare the shit out of Bruce if he took it home. He thanked each person more carefully than he had thanked the blonde girl in a hope that they wouldn’t look as embarrassed as she had. 

Returning to the bench once more, Damian dug out his lunch, pulling the tin foil apart, he stuffed some Pitta into his mouth before dipping his finger into Alfred’s home-made dip, meant to mimic his favourite from home. He sat on the bench, unaware of the heavy clouds beginning to loom over him, sucking his fingers enjoying every minute of Pennyworth’s meal. Before he knew it Damian was pushing crumbs around the foil wishing it would magically appear upon his lap once more.

He was shocked out of his edible fantasy, feeling a drop of water fall onto his hair, he looked up towards the sky and grimaced, recognising the signs of a Gotham storm. Throwing his stuff into his backpack, Damian rushed to shelter from the weather. Here was the problem. To add to Bruce’s grief, Damian refused to have a phone as it was a sign of ‘uneducated deviants who are bone idle and careless.’, as his mother had taught him, and therefore Damian normally made his own way back to the Manor, relying on not getting caught in weather conditions as such.

He decided that it would be best to shelter for a while, change into his trainers, and then leg it home; although the thought of his camera getting wet was now gnawing at his lower guts. Leaving the park, he turned right trotting along the street as he looked out for a place to shelter. Luckily, he spotted an apartment complex which had a canopy style entrance. He shuffled under the canopy and turned his nose up at the bitter smell of cigarette smoke, looking around to find the perpetrator. 

Locking eyes with the perpetrator, Damian noticed the white streak that ran up his hair and his memory was shocked into action. Grayson’s new harlot was standing in front of him. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Jason couldn’t seem to catch a break, pulling the cigarette away from his lips, his eyes widened at the sight of Dick’s demon brother standing outside his apartment building. His stomach tightened as he watched Damian’s smirk grow bigger, remembering their last encounter at the gala last weekend.

‘Of course, you would live here.’ Damian shook his head before looking up at the sky, wishing the rain to stop.

‘Whatcha doing kid?’ Jason let out a breath of smoke, watching it curl around in front of his face.

Damian snapped his head back to Jason, ‘Why do you need to know?’, he sighed, ‘Smoking is an awful addiction.’

Jason shrugged at him pulling another breath in. ‘Done worse.’ Silence engulfed the pair as the rain only increased in intensity. ‘You need a lift home?’ Jason asked, scrubbing his cigarette to a nub and chucking the end in an ashtray. Jason felt himself smile, as he watched conflict pass over Damian’s face. The devil child looked once more to the sky, hopefully, wishing that the sun would shine down on Gotham again. 

‘Yes.’ Damian gave in to Jason, who was smiling to himself at the thought of possibly seeing Dick again. Jason told the kid to stay there and ran up to his apartment grabbing two scarlet helmets from a dark cupboard, locking the door and rushing back down to where Damian was standing, angrily waiting.

‘I thought you had a car!’ Damian exclaimed in horror at the sight of the helmet.

‘Do I look like I drive a normal car?’ Jason raised an eyebrow at Damian before walking over to his bike which was locked up on a rusting rack, contradicting the scarlet shine of his motorbike. He heard Damian sigh to himself and felt his lips turn up at the corners, living up to his racing diva persona; Roman would be proud.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Damian flushed slightly at the feeling of hard muscle through Jason’s leather jacket, his arms wrapped around Jason’s torso in an attempt to cling on as they weaved around cars on the way out of East Gotham. The helmet on his head was heavy, protecting him from the rain alongside a plastic cover Jason had given him to cover his backpack. He had never ridden a motorbike before and Damian felt rather excited when the engine fired behind him, distracting him from the way water splashed up his feet; skimming the bottom of his jeans. 

Leaving the main road, Damian felt safer surrounded by nothing but hedged roads and large fields with orchids similar to the one below his bedroom. Whenever the sound of the engine wasn’t screaming in his ears Damian could hear Jason whistling to himself faintly. Although Jason had mainly flaws, Damian didn’t think he was a bad match for Grayson; perhaps that was because of his issues. Dick carried a lot of weight and was extremely eccentric at times, whilst Jason seemed to not care at all; floating on the speed of the moment. As a racer would have to. Looking into the future, Damian wondered whether Dick’s hate for the sport would cause a rift between them. What he did know was that Dick was infatuated with the racer and once Dick caught feelings it would be difficult for him to let go.

Hearing the gravel under the wheel once more, he was pulled to the present realising how tight his arms were bracing Jason’s torso; relaxing back into the seat, trying to shake off his previous fear so Jason wouldn’t be able to tell. The engine stopped and Damian shifted over the seat, both feet landing on the gravel. He pulled the helmet off, feeling the rain drip onto his face and placed it in the bottom of the seat, feeling Jason stare at him through the visor of his own helmet. ‘I will tell Grayson you're here.’ He said as he walked away from Jason, turning to look at him once more before jumping up the stairs. 

As the door closed behind him the soft sound of his father and Grayson talking flooded his ears. Looking through the doorway he waved to them both.

‘You’re back early little D.’, Dick cocked his head at Damian, ‘were there no dogs today?’.

‘It rained so your boyfriend drove me home.’ He grinned back at Dick, watching a confused expression grow on Bruce’s face.

‘Boyfriend?’ He looked at Dick with a raised eyebrow as Dick jumped up from the sofa, his socks slipping on the polished floor. Running through the doorway at breakneck speeds, Dick scrambled about, Damian now laughing at the expression on Dick’s face as he ran in the opposite direction of the door.

‘Out the front you moron!’ Damian shouted after Grayson, confused why Dick was running away. When he returned with that book in his hand Damian shook his head at Dick’s hopeless romance. Hopeless in the sense that by the time Dick had flung the door open, Jason had disappeared past the line of evergreen trees and the gate. 

The rain pouring down Dick’s face seemed to match his current mood. He scrubbed his face, ‘Maybe next time, huh?’, his gentle laughs masking obvious dismay.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Jason looked at his phone. The kid had left a minute ago, surely he had told Dick he was here by now. Excitement turned to fear and he felt his grip tighten on the handles of his scarlet bike, the rain rolling off his leather-covered fingers. Did he do something wrong? He was stupid thinking Dick would have wanted to see him. His bubbling anxieties took over after another thirty seconds and Jason hit the accelerator, riding away as fast as possible. His cheeks were burning hot with embarrassment and he wanted to bang his head into the wall. The water rolled down his visor mirroring the drops on his cheeks.

How quickly sunshine had turned to rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Stay safe and wear a mask <3


	6. Past and present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason flicked his lighter, cupping his cigarette to hide it from the wind. He sat on the hard step at the entrance of his flat complex, thankful for how the canopy sheltered him from the Gotham rain. Shoving his box of cigarettes and lighter back into his suitcase, trying to stop himself from smoking one more, he looked to his phone. It was early morning and Roy was meant to have already picked Jason up. ‘Seven.’ He mumbled under his breath, making sure that he had got the time right. 
> 
> Taking a deep breath, he ran a hand through his hair as he looked around him, reminded of how the devil child had stood there only a couple days ago. It was now Saturday, exactly two days since Dick had rejected him and now Jason had to go to a training camp which was run by Dick’s father. He would never escape those blue eyes.
> 
> Almost like a balm to his painful thoughts, a loud ‘honk’ startled Jason making him look up to see Roy waving at him through the window. Before he knew it the window was rolled and Roy was shouting at him. ‘You better put that shit in the tray, you are not gonna stink my family car out with smoke.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people, thanks for the continued support of this fic I really appreciate it. Sunday is when I will probably post more often now just because holiday is coming to an end and soon I will have to start work again. Thanks to everyone who has commented or given kudos and please tell me what you are looking forward to with coming chapters I love to hear your thoughts!
> 
> Trigger warning for this chapter as there is a description of physical abuse and the use of a slur which is derogatory towards gay people.

Jason flicked his lighter, cupping his cigarette to hide it from the wind. He sat on the hard step at the entrance of his flat complex, thankful for how the canopy sheltered him from the Gotham rain. Shoving his box of cigarettes and lighter back into his suitcase, trying to stop himself from smoking one more, he looked to his phone. It was early morning and Roy was meant to have already picked Jason up. ‘Seven.’ He mumbled under his breath, making sure that he had got the time right. 

Taking a deep breath, he ran a hand through his hair as he looked around him, reminded of how the devil child had stood there only a couple days ago. It was now Saturday, exactly two days since Dick had rejected him and now Jason had to go to a training camp which was run by Dick’s father. He would never escape those blue eyes.

Almost like a balm to his painful thoughts, a loud ‘honk’ startled Jason making him look up to see Roy waving at him through the window. Before he knew it the window was rolled and Roy was shouting at him. ‘You better put that shit in the tray, you are not gonna stink my family car out with smoke.’

Jason groaned, taking one more deep inhale and scrubbing the end into the ashtray. Grabbing his suitcase and throwing it in the back of Roy’s car along with his backpack full of various items.

‘I would have thought you’d given up by now?’ Roy sighed as Jason jumped into the passenger seat, the smell of smoke evident on his clothes. ‘Surely you’re too old to smoke?’ Roy’s parental voice drilling into Jason’s skull.

‘I don’t care honestly. I’m gonna die someday.’ Jason shrugged, pulling his leather jacket off of his shoulders and throwing it behind him. 

Roy pressed down on the accelerator as Jason watched his home fall behind them. ‘I was a bit like that and then I got Lian, someone I have to live for.’ Roy’s lips were curled up on one side showing some of his teeth. ‘Maybe you need someone to live for, Jaybird.’ He raised his eyebrows in a way that made Jason feel like a tiny child. 

‘I really don’t know that many people.’ He watched as they merged onto the auto way this time heading out of Gotham.

‘You have Grayson?’ Jason choked at the question and shook his head in a dismissive manner. ‘Something happen?’ Sensing his distress Roy asked.

‘We’re not that great for each other.’ Jason said softly. ‘Anyway what does that matter?’, he pulled his hair back, ‘I’m focusing on surviving this week.’

‘And then press week.’ Roy reminded Jason, he definitely had a better grip on his organizational skills, something that probably came from being a parent perhaps? He was reminded of Roy’s untamed kitchen and took back the previous thought. Maybe Roy was just good at remembering shit? ‘Don’t worry I will have you sleeping like a baby.’   
Focusing on the road, Jason watched the way Roy’s hands gripped the steering wheel, he looked down to the satnav which was sat behind a glimmering screen of glass nestled in the console of the car. Jason sighed at the time left on the journey, the track was much further than Jason normally traveled and was fairly new. He hadn’t been on it before his accident as at the time it was a horse racing track. The green grass had been covered in dark tarmac, classic Gotham style, and it had become the nearest racing area for Gotham daredevils.

‘Sorry I was late.’ Roy said huffing as he turned off the auto way onto a quieter road, which reminded Jason of the way to Wayne Manor; the memory tugging at his heart. ‘I planned to leave and prep the babysitter before Lian woke up, but the little devil heard me talking and saw that I was leaving.’, he took a breath, ‘Then, there were a lot of tears and the poor girl I’m paying to look after Lian was having to pull her off from my legs and hold her back as I left. I wish she didn’t make it so hard to leave.’

Jason smiled at Roy. ‘I’m sure if I was five and my dad was as amazing as you are I wouldn’t want him to leave.’ Looking down at his fingers he picked at an uneven nail. ‘My dad was a bastard. I’m sure if he was like you, I wouldn’t be such a fuck-up.’

Roy tutted under his breath, cutting Jason off, his words dripping in a harsh tone. ‘Jason Todd you are not a fuck-up. I will not have you saying that.’

‘Then what am I? My one job was to race and I even managed to screw that up.’ Jason was now laughing slightly, his hands behind his head; exposing hard muscle along his arms.

‘You crashed. Everyone crashes and I will not have you wallowing in self-pity. You drove aggressively and the universe threw it straight back at you.’

‘But-’

‘If you want to stay in for longer this season, and I personally really need you to stay in, you will have to learn that not everything is about coming first.’

Jason tilted his chin up and took a deep breath. He knew Roy was telling the truth but it was a bitter pill to swallow, similar to when Roy forced medicine down Lian’s throat, he grimaced pulling a face to show his distaste in what Roy said.

‘Don’t give me that look.’ Roy laughed to himself, watching as Jason’s bottom lip pouted, ‘I only want to see you fill your potential.’

‘I know, I know.’ Jason gestured his hands around accepting defeat from the older man. ‘It’s just hard to accept, I don’t like the pressure.’

‘We are extreme sports athletes. We live for pressure.’ Roy’s eyes were scanning his left mirror, the car behind them overtaking; obviously unhappy with the cruising pace Roy had set.

Jason huffed in response watching how the time ticked over on the console. The trees had grown thick around the road and the grass was actually green not dirt brown, refreshing to Jason’s eyes which were accustomed to grey Gotham. They watched as the car in front of them sped off causing a slight smile to brace Jason’s expression; if only the driver knew who they were. 

Yawning, Jason stretched his arms up into the air feeling his lack of sleep catching up with him, eyes growing heavy as he nestled back into the comfort of the seat. ‘You better not fall asleep on me.’ Roy looked over to him, eyes switching between Jason and the road.

‘Nuh-uh.’ Jason waved his hand at Roy’s face, silencing him as he closed his eyes once more. Roy now silently observed him in the way he would observe Lian; Jason looked extremely similar to Lian as he slipped into sleep.

_Jason slammed his hands down onto the steering wheel. His car was now stopped, ‘Fucking 16th place!’ Jason shouted, throwing his hands back down on his lap, anger pulsing through his veins. Jumping out of the monocoque, the special seat which kept drivers safe, he landed on both feet; pulling his helmet off and throwing it onto the floor. His nails scratched his face as he pulled his balaclava off revealing sweat ridden hair._

_A woman rushed over to him, he remembered her as his lead engineer. Her hands holding him in place, as his anger summited she attempted to unstrap the hans from around his shoulders, struggling to take it off Jason pushed her away pulling it off himself and throwing the hans down next to the scarlet helmet._

_She grabbed him once more, ‘You need to calm down.’_

_‘I don’t give a fuck!’ He shouted running a hand through his hair, her eyes watching as Jason’s hands shook violently._

_‘Well, the press do.’ She whispered her tone cutting into him, as he turned to see a dozen cameras pointed at him. His skin was burning, teeth gritted, as he registered the sound of people asking him what was wrong. Women with microphones leaning over the metal fence, breasts spilling out of their shirt._

_‘What’s wrong Jason?’  
‘Todd?’  
‘Why did you do so badly?’  
‘What has happened?’  
‘Is this a result of Roman Sionis and the current charges against him?’  
‘Why did you do so badly?’  
‘Are you worried they won’t pick you next year?’  
‘You are not progressing as much as predicted.’  
‘Why did you do so badly?’  
‘Why did you do so badly?’  
‘Why did you do so badly?’_

_Jason shook, his manager’s arm off, her face in a grimace as she asked for someone to call someone or do something, he walked over to the press; face burning up as he confronted them._

_‘The car is fucking dog shit.’ He raised his eyebrows as he said it, watching as a man clicked a recording device on. ‘It has nothing to do with me and if Logan could stop getting in my way then maybe I wouldn’t be coming fucking 16th!’ His fists curled._

_‘Do you acknowledge the fact that to some extent you are to blame.’ A man with a balding head shoved the mic back into his face._

_‘Did you not fucking hear me?’ Jason laughed. ‘The car is shit.’_

_‘Mr. Todd,’ A woman shouted at him, grabbing his attention, 'What’s your opinion on the claims of abuse against your backer Roman Sionis?’ The question hit him like a ton of bricks and he took a deep breath in as if he had been winded._

_‘I’m not answering that.’ He turned away-_

_‘So you don’t contest the claims?’ her voice pierced through the back of his head, his mind still. He was in trouble._

_‘I-’_

_‘Mr. Todd has answered enough questions. Thank you.’ His PR manager was pushing him back into the garage, her touch much kinder than his main engineers. She had a kind face, the sort he would describe as pretty, and a quiet voice which reassured him that everything would be okay. His legs moved involuntarily and as he walked into the garage silence fell upon the team. Gar Logan was watching him from his side of the garage, shaking his head at his teammate's attitude._

_In the changing room, Jason held his head in his hands feeling his anger being replaced with embarrassment and below that fear that bubbled a yellow putrid colour. He heard his shoes first, the way the soles clicked on the floor. His head dropped to the floor as the door swung open, unable to look him in the face._

_‘Jason, Jason, my boy.’ Roman’s voice was velvet, ‘What do I have to do to get you to fucking behave!’ He was now shouting, the sentence having peaked at the end, Roman’s anger oozing out of his pores. Jason winced below him, covering his head, trying to stop himself from becoming distressed._

_He towered over Jason, his scarred face leaving his expression fairly neutral. Jason found it far more chilling when Roman shouted as his eyes were empty, scar tissue bulking up under his eyelids._

_‘You won’t even look at me you faggot.’ Roman laughed to himself, as Jason looked up in shock, terrified at the way Roman pulled at the rings on his gloved hand._

_Roman mumbled to himself softly, knowing Jason was staring at him. ‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing?’ He snarled as his palm connected with Jason’s nose, forcing his head back into the wall. Jason thought he saw stars, Roman applying pressure to his nose as he continued to push Jason’s head back, stretching his neck out in an uncomfortable pose. Roman let go shaking what looked like sweat or snot off of his leather glove. ‘You ungrateful little shit.’ His eyes widened, Jason, preparing himself after the telltale sign of an attack. This time he definitely did see stars and he heard a wail escape his mouth as he was pushed back into the wall, Roman’s fist connecting directly with the bottom of his nose._

_Roman held his hand over Jason’s mouth, his face scarily close to his own, ‘You are a useless piece of shit- not going to fucking fail me again.’ His voice was cold on Jason’s flushed skin and Jason felt terrified, his right hand gripping onto the bench below him. When Roman let go, Jason sat bent forwards holding his breath in fear of what was next. He felt so small, like the kid hidden under the table in their family home; afraid of the man who hit his mother all the time, wishing he would disappear._

_Roman crouched down in front of Jason, their eyesight level with each other, Jason held his hand to his nose and winced at the blood left on his glove. Taking Jason’s, now slightly crooked, nose between his fingers Roman pinched hard, his other gloved hand catching the blood which continued to drip down towards the floor. ‘I wouldn’t have to be like this if you just behaved.’ Roman shushed him as Jason tried to move away from his increasing grip on Jason’s nose._

_‘I would hate to have to drop you, Jason.’ Roman signed to which Jason’s eyes widened pleading with him._

_‘Please this is all I have.’_

_‘I know my boy.’ Roman’s gloved hand tucked a piece of Jason’s hair back behind his ear. ‘I won’t drop you but you do make it difficult for me when you act like you can’t be arsed.’ He now removed the hand from Jason’s nose and shook it, Jason watching as his blood splattered up the white wall, the remains being wiped onto Jason’s Nomex sleeved arm._

_Roman stepped back and admired his work, Jason’s nose had a slight crook in the bottom section of it, ‘You won’t forget to behave now, will you. It can count as a reminder of what happens when you fuck around?’_

_‘Yes.’ Jason whimpered quietly, his eyes beginning to fill with tears as pain and shame caused his face to throb._

_‘Don’t look at me like that.’ Roman said softly as he wiped a tear away from Jason’s eye leaving a slight smudge of blood on Jason’s cheek. ‘You know you’re better than Logan. It’s just, I know that when training boys like you sometimes you need,’ he took a breath, a strange smile bracing his blackened lips, ‘correcting.’ Roman’s eyes flicked over Jason’s face. ‘This is all for your own good.’ His hand was now cupping Jason’s jaw, his thumb touching Jason’s lip hovering over the corner of his mouth._

_Jason felt disgusted as he let his head fall forwards into Roman’s touch and he felt more tears roll over his cheeks, his nose still throbbing making it difficult to breathe steadily._

_‘I-’_

_‘Shush.’ Roman hissed cutting Jason off from airing his thoughts, ‘You mustn't worry my boy.’ He stood up, once more shaking his hand off to rid the blood from his glove. Jason was still hunched over, afraid to acknowledge that it had happened again. ‘I will make you a star.’ The man said as he pulled Jason’s chin up to look at him but the touch felt much more human than leather and Jason snapped his head up to see Bruce Wayne stood in front of him; his hand covered in blood and his face stuck in that infamous smiling expression, his face but Roman’s voice. Jason was lost._

Jason’s eyes flicked open, as he took a deep inhale, sitting upright in his seat as he did. Looking around him as he rubbed his eyes he saw they were stopped, parked even, the sign of the track glimmering under a beam of light that was struggling to combat the cloud.

‘You kay?’ Roy’s voice frightened Jason and he snapped round to see Roy pulling their stuff out the back of the car. ‘You were making some pretty scary faces but I didn’t want to wake you.’ He smiled.

‘Yeah yeah.’ Jason shook his concern off, scrubbing his face and jumping out of the car, helping Roy grab their various suitcases and backpacks. He threw his leather jacket back on and pulled his bag around one shoulder, using his other hand to pull a suitcase. Roy, had his phone to his ear telling someone they had arrived at the track. Roy led Jason in the direction of the main stand and they were greeted by two security guards at a turning door.

They signaled the two racers through to the main lobby. The lobby was decorated finely and in the center above the lifts, there was a picture of a car turning around a corner. ‘When we get pictures of you guys you will be up there.’ The receptionist smiled at them as her nails tapped loudly on the keyboard. Roy was smiling at her and he looked over to Jason assuring that he was okay. It was deathly silent in the lobby but Jason could imagine the bustling crowd on race day which would fill the room. There seemed to be one corridor to the left which led to the stand, one corridor to the right which was for officials only and a set of lifts which donned a matte black paint job.

The receptionist grabbed a plastic card and the machine beeped as she pulled the card out. She handed it to Roy. ‘You’re room is number 404 and it's on the fourth floor.’ flushing under Roy’s gaze, ‘obviously.’ she laughed.

‘Only one room?’ Roy’s head cocked to the side. Jason’s eyebrows furrowed together and he walked over to the desk checking he had heard Roy right.  
The younger woman looked up at both of them and flushed more. ‘Yep. It says here that you have a twin room.’, she typed something into the computer, ‘There is a specific note that says I can’t change you into your own rooms.’

Roy laughed slightly and raised his eyebrows at her. ‘Okay. Thank you.’ He turned Jason around and they walked towards the elevator. 

‘That’s a bit shit.’ Jason huffed already frustrated with his experience at the track.

Roy grinned at his teammate. ‘What? You don’t wanna stay with your new buddy Roy?’ He nudged at Jason’s shoulder as he pressed the button for the fourth level. ‘We need to drop our stuff and run down to the conference room cos we are already late.’

‘Imma blame Lian.’

‘She’s five!’

‘Imma blame Lian.’ Jason grinned at Roy as the door opened with a high pitched ‘ding’ and they hauled their bags out into the carpeted corridor. The door opened with a click and the racers were met with the sight of their room. There were two small beds that were separated by a mahogany bedside table, which had a small succulent on top of it. The windows reminded Jason of Roy’s flat, just the view was of a concrete track rather than reflective high rise buildings. Jason picked the bed furthest from the door and threw his bags onto it, before checking his hair in the mirror and running after Roy who had already left and was holding the lift door open for him.

Jason tried to make himself look professional in the reflection of the elevator shine, pulling his jacket together in the middle and tucking his t-shirt in.

Their keycard allowed them to scan the door to the officials only section of the grandstand and Jason felt slightly out of place being classed as an official, it had been a while since his last race, but Roy’s presence grounded him. Roy was very similar to Jason but he was definitely more confident in these situations than Jason could ever even pretend to be. The walls were decorated with pictures of various drivers, one which Jason could distinguish as Garth when he won the championship a couple of years ago. He had remembered being sat on his sofa feeling the worst when his friend was feeling the best, a conflicted feeling tugged at his stomach at the memory; it was best left in the past.

They eventually arrived outside the door which was labeled 1c, glancing at his phone Roy checked it was the right room. ‘You ready?’ He turned to Jason squeezing his shoulder bringing him back to reality. Jason nodded at him with large eyes which masked a new type of fear; Roman’s voice ringing loud in his skull reminding him of the past.

Stepping into the room the first thing Jason noticed was the large amount of light that poured onto the table which was surrounded by a handful of uncomfortable-looking chairs. Callum interrupted Jason’s analysis of the room, grabbing his hand and shaking it wildly; his favoritism of the number one driver obvious.

‘Darling I haven’t seen you in ages!’ He grinned at Jason before embracing Roy in a fake hug and turning straight back to Jason. ‘We have so much to talk about. How was the- wait how did you get back from the Gala?’

‘Roy-’

‘Did you meet Bruce?’ Jason tried to pretend that he hadn’t heard the snicker which escaped Roy’s lips. He remembered the way Callum had hung onto the expensive fabric of Bruce’s blazer.

‘He said he was gonna be here.’ Jason said fairly flatly as he looked around the room.

‘He's going to be here at the end of the week!’ Callum clapped to himself and Jason felt a wave of second-hand embarrassment wash over him. Roy had already sat down and Jason moved to sit next to him.

‘Come sit here sweetheart.’ Callum pulled out the chair next to him and Jason gave an apologetic smile to Roy before sitting next to Callum. He turned to his left to smile at the younger woman on his left, she had black bobbed hair and sharp eyes which turned up so slightly. Her lips were baby pink and juxtaposed her paler skin which unlike Jason’s olive undertone was more of a pastel yellow.

‘Two redheads in a team is bad news.’ A female voice sounded and Jason watched the woman next to Roy smile at him. ‘My names Barbara Gordon but you can call me Babs, only if you’re good though,’ she pushed her glasses back. Her hair was as bright as Roy’s but was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, radiating professionalism, and her skin was similar to Roy’s but with fewer freckles and deep hazel eyes. She looked smart, was dressed smart and radiated smart. 

‘I’m your manager and main engineer. If you have issues with the car or with anything please tell me.’ She turned towards Jason, directing her sentence towards him. ‘Just tell me and I will sort it out for you.’ Jason felt some sort of reassurance hit him, she seemed to have her head screwed on. Callum seemed to feel very comfortable letting Babs take control of the situation as he relaxed back into his chair. ‘This is Cass, she is my number two and we will be splitting your time between us.’ Babs pointed to the girl sitting beside Jason who smiled slightly. Roy nodded towards Cass, whose lips stayed fairly shut together as she gave a little wave to Roy and then to Jason.

Babs looked to Cass for a second, checking if she wanted to say something, and turned back to the table when Cass gave her a look which signaled her chosen silence. ‘Cass’ girlfriend Stephanie will be handling your press team, so she’s your go-to there.’ Jason felt a smile crossing his face at the realisation that his team had people like him in it. With Roman, no one had ever understood him.

‘We have Nygma doing stats.’ Their leader pointed over to a rather scatty man wearing a green tie. ‘And we have Kori,’ she trailed off, ‘Who's not here right now.’ Babs turned to Cass.

Cass spoke in a small voice. ‘She’s got a gig in star.’ Babs nodded, obviously reminded of the team availability.

‘Kori will be moral support and just telling you guys what to do when to do it and where to do it. She’s a retired personal assistant so she will be taking on that role with both of you.’ Jason watched Babs talk and his eyes drifted down to her torso. He tried to hide his expression of shock when he realised Babs was sat in a wheelchair. Looking back up he saw she was holding his line of sight. ‘It’s fine.’ She reassured him with a smile.

‘I-’ Jason stuttered slightly before relaxing his shoulders. ‘It’s just not very common.’ He continued and Babs turned to address Roy as well. 

‘That’s why I’m such a catch.’ She grinned her glasses reflecting the light through the window. ‘Honestly guys, we have been working so hard towards the season and we really hope that you embrace everything we give you. I know we have a chance at doing something monumental.’

‘We know you can do it.’ Cass smiled as she said it, the fact her voice was barely audible pushed Jason to do well for her. 

Callum slapped his thighs with his hands, ‘We have a week before Wayne expects us to be season ready.’ Jason felt the mood in the room deflate, it was a short amount of time for an extremely hard job.

Having sensed the feeling Roy jumped up, pushing his hair back, ‘We better get to it then.’ he smiled; his classic grin making Jason feel ready for the moment in which they lived. Excited for his journey to begin and to subsequently leave the past in his dust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate Roman Sionis so much.
> 
> Anyways thanks for your support!
> 
> Stay safe and wear a mask <3


	7. Young and aged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘There he is.’ Roy slipped his arm around Jason’s neck, pulling Jason to his hip. Jason grinned at his comrade and clapped Roy’s hand with his own. ‘Duo of the year.’ Roy nodded to the group, his wispy hair falling forwards in front of his creasing eyes.
> 
> ‘That’s definitely one way of saying it.’ Jason pinched Roy’s side feeling old excitement begin to bubble up inside of him; they looked like two school boys ready to accept their new toys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I know this chapter is a day late but I hope you enjoy it still. You have made it to the first racing segment! wow! I hope to include more racing from here on as the season kicks in. I tried my best with the terminology so I hope it all makes sense.
> 
> Comments and kudos appreciated :)

The midday rain came and went fairly quickly, the sound echoing in the changing room which was connected to the garage they had decided to use. Jason pulled on his black overalls, his practice suit which was devoid of the colourful branding he donned during real races, tying the sleeves round his waist leaving his black t-shirt underneath exposed to the smokey air.

He grabbed his backpack off the bench, feeling some sort of ghost pain as a memory hit him, and turned to push the door open; walking through the corridor his feet tapping on the marble style floor. The smell of a busy garage was something that harked Jason too many years ago, when he had been young and enthusiastic. He would definitely describe himself as grumpy and tired now, more the old dog than excitable puppy. 

The growing sound of the garage was calming to Jason’s ears and he looked around to see a team of about twenty people moving frantically around two cars which were covered in an opaque sheet. Roy stood with his arms crossed talking with Barbara, who Cass had pushed towards the opening of the garage. Spotting Jason, Cass gave him a small smile and waved to him; her hand moving in a slow circular motion. Jason squeezed past a mechanic busy at work and moved to join the group who were standing around, joining the conversation just as Roy cracked a dad joke causing a groan to ripple over the group.

‘There he is.’ Roy slipped his arm around Jason’s neck, pulling Jason to his hip. Jason grinned at his comrade and clapped Roy’s hand with his own. ‘Duo of the year.’ Roy nodded to the group, his wispy hair falling forwards in front of his creasing eyes.

‘That’s definitely one way of saying it.’ Jason pinched Roy’s side feeling old excitement begin to bubble up inside of him; they looked like two school boys ready to accept their new toys. Jason was jumping on his toes, his brimming excitement fairly visible; looking around him he recognised this was the team who would be in the pitwall plus a couple more. 

The pitwall was the home of in-depth analysis of the race; a place where the leaders of the team separated themselves from the clusterfuck called a garage. There, team leaders communicated with drivers through the intercom system and kept an eye on the physical state of each car as it flashed past them. There was something extremely professional about the stunning silence of five people sat watching their racer come round the corner without cracking a single expression; here they had to stay focused and calm, maintaining a cool mood in order to not shock their drivers.

Barbara tapped Roy’s knee to grab his attention. ‘You guys go check out the pits and we can roll out the cars for the big reveal.’ Jason watched as Babs pushed across to the otherside, she seemed fairly remarkable; it was rare to have women in a team let alone a woman who used a wheelchair.

They stepped onto the tarmac and walked out into the middle of the pit, Roy lifted his head up to look at the stands which were built atop of the garages which were lined up in a long row. Jason watched the way his neck stretched out as he looked up, imagining the rows of people cheering for the both of them. Jason walked a bit further from their garage and traced the burn marks along the tarmac; although one is not allowed to drive fast in the pits Jason remembered the way his tires would squeal as he drove away from his team, snarling at the way he lost traction on the tarmac. 

‘I hate pitting.’ Roy sighed as he zipped his suit up as the rain began to drip down on them once more. ‘It feels so frustrating’, he ran a hand through his hair, ‘to waste so much time sitting around.’ Jason felt a laugh bubble out of his throat; ‘so much time’ was really a second or two in reality but time always moved so quickly when they were sitting in the driving seat.

‘I kinda like it y’know?’ Jason turned back to face Roy, his suit still hanging open, the white stripe in his hair beginning to droop as the rain fell on him. 

Roy grinned at him. ‘Yeah but you’re a masochist.’

‘Ha ha.’ Jason rolled his eyes. ‘No but seriously, it hypes me up. The countdown, the way everything inside you is concentrated until one single point in time where you let it all out at once.’ He gestured around him, his hands moving in fluid motions. Roy stepped towards him and grabbed him by the shoulder, his grip soft and kind.

‘Sounds fairly masochistic to me.’ Roy laughed before jumping slightly as Jason pushed him. Pushing Jason back, Roy stood on the end of his toes jumping around Jason like a little puppy.

‘Come here you long haired dick!’ Jason reached for Roy’s hair and grasped a couple strands between his fingers.

Roy shook his head laughing loudly. ‘Not the hair! I worked for years for this hair.’ Jason was smiling cheek to cheek as he continued to bat at Roy’s arms. Roy now stumbling backwards towards the outside of the garage, where the cars had been rolled out nearly ready for their grand reveal.

Suddenly they both jumped at the sound of a large yelp and Roy whipped around to see himself standing on a very scared Cassandra. They both stiffened up and jumped back from the young woman who was looking slightly nervous at what had happened.

‘S-s-s’, she stumbled over her words slightly and gulped, seeming to refresh her speech. ‘S-sorry.’ Cass reached down to dust her foot off.

‘No it's my fault.’ Roy gestured around in front of her, his eyes looking very apologetic; perhaps seeing Lian in the young woman. Cass’ lips were sealed shut and she continued to flush as she looked up to the tall man, she was but five foot six and her two racers were both above six foot. She looked back around to them before helping Babs to move towards them, Babs smiling up at Cass, her arms aching ever so slightly.

The team began to assemble around the car, Jason now able to count how many of them there were; that being about twenty five all dressed in casual clothes.

Babs smiled at both of them. ‘Are you ready?’ Jason looked at Roy and took a deep breath, they would have to race in these cars for the whole season, what if he didn’t like them? He would have to.

‘Ready as ever.’ Jason smiled softly as Babs told someone called Jenny and another called Satri to pull the dark sheet away from the cars.

Jason heard Roy take a deep breath in and Jason held his breath in, his chest tight with anticipation. Blood rushed around the crown of his skull, feeling his pulse deep in the back of his throat as rain poured down the front of his face. 

Jason inhaled sharply when he saw it. Stepping forwards, he ran his hands over the black chrome marvelling at the way it reflected the light ever so slightly. He ran a thumb over the lick of electric blue paint which ran around the back and highlighted the rear wing which reminded him of a whale’s tail dripping with water as they did in his favourite nature documentaries. Overlapping the blue stripe was the words ‘Outlaw Sport’ in large chunky ivory letters, blue paint framing each letter with punchy emphasis. The dark black bargeboards were still ever so reflective to Jason’s surprise, he had never seen that before. 

Just behind the cockpit was the tramp stamp which Jason would have to bear; ‘Wayne Enterprises’ it read. Along the nose of the car which jutted forwards more brands made their mark; G-Mobile, AMD, Central Oil, Roll Dice just to name a few. The wheels stretched out and the spokes within them were a deep black chrome as well. Jason felt like a small child, nothing could make him feel happier and there was no way he was going to crash this one.

Roy whistled examining the other car, ‘Is that our initials?’, he questioned; his eyes were as wide as Jason’s and he tapped at the ‘RH’ which was placed at the top of the blue lick. Babs raised her eyebrows and Jason scrambled round to the left flank of the car, tracing the lick once more and finding the bell bottom of a ‘J’ and the hash end of a ‘T’ following the first letter. He felt his brain explode as he looked back to Roy, sudden pride in everything he stood for rising in his lungs. 

‘I think this means you like them?’ Babs laughed softly, leaning on her elbow which was propped on the side of her chair. 

Jason and Roy almost jumped at what she said. ‘Yes!’ Roy ran his hand through his long hair and grinned. ‘God yes, they are-are.’ He gestured towards the car searching for the word he needed.

‘Amazing.’ Jason said softly, he was now crouched down touching the spokes in the wheel; then feeling the rubber underneath his thumb. The crew around them began to clap and the duo turned to face them smiling as they celebrated the first win of the season. Jason felt a small hand on his lower back and he turned to see Cass holding a phone.

‘Do you want a-a photo?’ Her voice was soft and Jason noticed a singular raindrop drip down over the curve of her nose.

‘Please.’ He smiled softly trying to be as approachable as possible and it seemed to work as the left side of her mouth curved ever so slightly, stepping back she aimed the camera at them. Jason grabbed Roy and they stood between both the cars which were dealing with the rain much better than Jason’s tee. Cass clicked the photo and gave a thumbs up, Roy turning to Jason and pulling him close into a tight hug. 

Jason clapped his hands together as he pulled his suit back over his shoulders, pulling the zip quickly as the rain began to get heavier. ‘So when can I get in it?’ He grinned eagerly, wishing to get into the cockpit as soon as possible. 

‘We will get you doing laps in a couple of minutes, okay?’ Babs nodded to him as she pushed herself over towards them. ‘They are fuelled up for about an hour driving so that you can get used to how those wheels feel. The power units are fast, V6 Turbo Charged, so please be careful. These are the first of their type and they really push the restrictions so they may feel a bit wild at first.’ She wiped her glasses, clearing the rain off of the lenses. ‘I have worked on them for years’, taking a breath she looked up to them, ‘Wayne found me and he has given us a lot, a lot of money to make this work.’

Jason looked to his left to see Cass ordering people about. ‘We need some wets on here.’ Her voice was still soft but calm, not as nervous as she had been in front of Jason. Over her words, Jason heard the noise of tires being removed; the buzz of the drill as the soft tires were replaced by hard ones. Hard tires would be able grip on the wet corners better than the softer ones; all produced by the mega company Pirelli. The yellow words contrasting the electric blue tail of the car.

‘Let me go get the helmets.’ Jason began to walk to the garage before Babs grabbed him. 

‘Don’t worry we’ve got something for both of you.’ She signalled with her hands to Cass and they watched as the younger girl nodded running into the garage. ‘She finds it easier to use ASL sometimes.’ Babs smiled at Roy, who had raised an eyebrow at Babs’ gesturing.

Cass returned a couple minutes later balancing two large cardboard boxes on top of each other, her eyes barely peeking over the boxes. ‘Here.’ She passed Jason a box and then passed Roy one; her delicate fingers touching the box on the side. Tilting his head to the side, Jason opened the box to find his new helmet waiting for him. He pulled the helmet out letting the box drop to the floor, running his fingers over the raised rivets which ran parallel to each other; painted blue like horns along his head. Pulling the visor down, Jason observed the way the rigid plastic shimmered a blue colour. The aesthetic pleased him to his core.

In the bottom of the box there was a hans; a piece of equipment which racers placed around their necks to support the weight of the helmets; Jason pulled it round himself strapping the pieces into place. He felt excitement course through his veins and he walked over to the car touching the halo tenderly.

‘He’s in love.’ Roy smiled at Barbara as he placed the hans on his shoulders, pulling his dark leather gloves onto his hand.

‘So what? She’s beautiful!’

‘Are all your cars females?’

‘Yes, don’t get judgy with me Harper.’ Jason pulled the helmet onto his head, turning the world around him ever so slightly blue through the visor. He lifted the visor up to see everyone better and jostled his head around making sure the weight on his shoulders was well distributed. It was strange to only see Roy’s eyes instead of his whole face but Jason felt comforted by the way Roy’s eyes still crinkled at the sides so slightly, a telltale sign that he was smiling.

Jason jumped through the halo, falling back into the seat, at ease with the calm that fell upon him. His leather gloves squeaked as he pushed his fingers together, reminding himself of the feeling of being in a car; it had been so long. 

_Jason had been standing outside the Star City track, smoking a cigarette to calm his anxious mind. He shrugged his shoulders moving the sleeves of his uniform back into place as they had risen up over the day. Throwing his cigarette to the floor, he pushed it about with the heel of his foot watching as the slight flicker of light was diminished into smoke._

_He grabbed the microphone which was attached to an overhead speaker and sighed as he clicked it, now stood watching the kids race around in their go karts. ‘The session ends in two minutes. Drive up to the fence and stop the car.’_

_He pulled a young girl in pigtails out of the car and scowled slightly as he felt the bumper of a kart run into the back of his feet. He turned to see a kid with fat cheeks staring at him._

_‘I want more!’_

_‘Well your parents paid for thirty minutes and you have had your thirty minutes.’_

_‘Well’, the kid stuttered angrily, ‘Your breath stinks mister.’ Jason scowled used to the smell of smoke which clung to his uniform. Not extremely family friendly he thought to himself as he pulled the kid out of the kart._

_The kids stood round in a group and Jason talked through the normal bullshit about getting a karting membership at the track and how ‘One day you could be the new Garth Rannz.’, who was on track to win the championship._

_Jason leaned on the fence as parents picked their kids up, thanking Jason for watching them although he had spent more time smoking than actually supervising; it was too painful to see them do what he so wanted to do._

_‘Uncle Cal!’ The girl with the pigtails squealed in surprise as she jumped into the man's arms; his shirt bright and hair gelled. The so called Uncle embraced her and looked at Jason smiling. Jason knew the realisation that Cal’s eyes shimmered with and raised an eyebrow to him._

_‘You’re..?’_

_‘Yep.’_

_‘And you work here?’_

_‘Yep.’ Jason sighed, running a hand through his hair. Scanning Cal over he saw the signet ring on his finger and mentally noted that this was a rich man._

_‘This is crazy.’ Cal scrubbed his face. ‘My name is Callum Worthing and I’m creating a team.’_

_‘Huh-’ Jason was the one to ask the questions now but was even more confused when Callum grabbed his hands shaking them together._

_‘Give me your number and I will get in touch with you.’ Callum grinned, practically taking Jason’s phone out of his pocket and copying the racer’s number into his own phone. ‘Thanks!’ He flushed, grabbing the little girl's hand and walking away._

_Jason heard her ask him as she walked away. ‘Who was that Cal?’._

_‘Have you ever heard of the Spa Francorchamps track?’ Jason cocked his head confused at what had happened, for once his fear was replaced with something positive, perhaps he wouldn’t have to work here for the rest of his life. ___

__Jason’s thoughts were interrupted by a man in a baseball cap passing him the steering console through the halo. ‘Here.’ He smiled reminding Jason of his younger self, his helmet masking his reaction to the kid. Something still irked him about eighteen year olds being so involved in the sport. Jason was reminded of Tim Drake’s cold narrow eyes._ _

__Shaking off the thought, Jason pushed the console down onto the steering column, the colourful buttons hiding the fact that this wheel took over 80 hours to make. The rims of the buttons were stiff, meaning it would be difficult to press a button by accident and Jason was glad. His fingers played with the shift and clutch paddles, clicking as Jason pushed them away and towards him; his satisfaction growing as he played around with his new toy._ _

__The kid leant on the halo smiling at Jason, moving forward to point at certain buttons. ‘There’s your DRS, Torque, Brake settings and your Shift levels. All team data and comm links will appear on here.’ He tapped at the screen in the middle of the wheel; its symmetrical curved t-shape handels framing the data screen. Jason nodded his thanks and then pulled his visor up, exposing his grass green eyes to the junior mechanic._ _

__‘Do I have a com headset?’ He asked, deep eyes staring at the young man._ _

__‘Uh-yeah.’ He looked slightly starstruck at the fact Jason was talking to him. ‘It’s all built into the helmet. There is a sensor on the side of your helmet which turns coms on.’ He reached forwards and then looked to check whether Jason was okay with it._ _

__‘Go ahead.’ Jason tried to look kind. The junior mechanic waved a finger over his helmet, just above his right ear and Jason heard a faint ‘beep’ as the comms system came online._ _

__The young man turned to look at the garage, ‘Wait till someone tells you to go.’, he tapped the side of the car before going to leave._ _

__‘Sure Kid.’ Jason nodded pulling his visor back down, still able to see how the boy’s cheeks flushed red. He twisted his torso round, to watch Roy jump in his own car; tying his treasured locks back into a loose bun and pulling his helmet over the bun before flipping the visor up and down. A woman approached the red-black and blue head, obviously explaining to Jason what the kid had._ _

__He was about to shout out to Roy but froze when he heard a light buzzing noise in his ears, now realising there were soundpieces above both of his ears. The dashboard lit up as the car connected to the pitwall team, his visor was lit up by the LED lights and he heard a soft voice in his ear._ _

__‘Jason, this is Cass. Can you confirm you can hear me?’_ _

__‘Yep. I can hear you Cass.’ He took a deep breath in, he didn't want to scare Cass as he previously had seemed to. ‘Can I call you Cass?’_ _

__He heard her hesitate before speaking, ‘Yes.’ Her voice was stronger than it had been before and Jason almost felt proud. ‘Right we are set to go now. Take it slowly and get a feel for the car, okay?’_ _

__Okay now, Jason smiled to himself as he heard the revving of the car, being controlled by a laptop back in the garage; the engine having already been warmed by mechanics was purring so softly now. With oil pumping around the inners of the body and the machine used to crank the gearbox removed, Jason began to rev the car manually pressing on a series of buttons along the right side of the wheel. Pushing his foot slowly onto the accelerator he felt the car begin to move forwards away from the garage and towards the pit lane, separated by the large concrete wall attached to more metal fencing._ _

__The car was moving slowly as Jason maintained the same pressure on the accelerator, his heart beating quickly in his chest. Wheels rolling forwards at a steady pace, turning the wheel ever so slightly to the right so that the nose straightened up with the middle of the track. Cass held her breath as she watched through the track cameras at the way Jason’s midnight car crawled across the tarmac, she hoped it would go well as he seemed like a good person._ _

__‘All the specs are good. You can accelerate now.’ Cass’ voice made Jason jump and he slowed to a stop looking in his right mirror as he heard Roy’s car purring in response._ _

__‘Come on Cariño.’ He whispered._ _

__‘W-wh-what?’_ _

__‘Sorry I’m talking to the car.’ Jason laughed to himself as he replied to the confused Cass._ _

__‘Oh okay.’ Jason pressed down on the pedal, he wasn’t going fast but he the wheels were turning relentlessly as he turned round the corner which led back to the track, he couldn’t see the pits out of his mirror anymore. As he joined back onto the maintrack, the traffic lights green, he felt his foot grow heavier on the pedal as he moved to flip the padel behind the wheel changing the gear in response to his increasing speed._ _

__Ahead of him he saw the first corner turning sharply to the left, almost like a right angle, and moved the car wide of the corner and turning tight to the apex of the corner as he let go of the accelerator making sure not to run too far onto the red and white curb. When the straight revealed itself to Jason he pushed down on the pedal flipping the gears up and feeling the engine’s purr turn into a roar as the car began to pick up some real speed, the spec reading off about 60 miles per hour. He approached the next turn with more drive, the c shaped curve almost symmetrical in shape. Pulling the wheel to the right he felt the tires move with him, one with his hands and his mind. It felt so good._ _

__Having completed the corner cleanly he led the car round what was now bend three, an abnormally twisting path for the section one of a race. The screen lit up in front of him and he heard Cass call over the system, ‘This is the first straight. Try and get some speed going. Be careful on the corner.’_ _

__‘Copy.’ Jason replied almost automatically, surprised at the normality that driving was to him even after his break. Jason smiled as he felt himself being pushed back into the seat, his monitor now reading 90, no, 100 miles per hour._ _

__Back at the garage Babs lent over Cass’ shoulder, taking a break from watching Roy, her lips turned up as she saw the car pick up speed confidently, she could tell Jason was enjoying himself. Turning back to Roy she fed him more instructions as he turned onto the track, taking it much slower than Jason had, his mind clearly busy._ _

__Meanwhile, Jason had slowed down to take the corner just as Cass had instructed and sped up almost immediately the next corner dangerously close. Driving to the left of the tarmac, he felt the left tires rub the red and white curb; he pulled the car to the right quickly and as he did he felt his breath heavy on his lips, trying to avoid the back tires from stepping out of place._ _

__The noise of the engine was so loud that it felt quiet, his cockpit a secret alcove empty of any noise like the library in Wayne Manor where he had met. He took a breath now realising that he was on the next corner and had left it late, his mind lost in his weekend’s romance. Jason gritted his teeth as he pulled round the next corner extremely wide, both tires rumbling on the curb beside him._ _

__‘Press the DRS button and then put your foot down, I want to take some stats.’ Cass had obviously spotted the extremely long straight Jason was now on and she was seizing the opportunity, knowing Babs was curious about how fast the thing could really go with a human inside it. She looked to the monitor and saw the DRS system turn on, flashing green on the screen._ _

__Jason heard the wing lift down, the air able to move around the car much faster than before, he put his foot to the floor as the engine roared and the air whipped around the car the faster and faster they got. His hands shook on the wheel as he flicked his eyes to the monitor and then back to the road, the numbers going up and up every millisecond: 110, 111, 115, 116, 120, 122. He heard a wince escape his mouth as he realised he was approaching the 130 mark, pushing a button to shift the brakes across the back and changing gear as he pressed down so gently on the left pedal, the car slowing automatically almost insync with his very thoughts._ _

__‘Great job Jason, that's sector two cleared.’ Cass’ voice brought him back to reality and he felt his pulse slow at the quiet timbre of her voice. Dragging the car round one more corner, hitting the apex fairly spot on, he relaxed at the view of one more straight ahead of him; corners made him tense up ever so slightly as they were a place of luck, at least he believed that._ _

__He turned back towards the middle of the track and pulled the wheel to the right sharply round the pinhead corner, he could see the stand coming up on his left and he felt reassurance swell in his chest as he turned the final corner. He imagined Cass and Babs smiling as he raced past them crossing the line for the first time today, for the first time in a while._ _

__‘Okay let's do that again.’ Cass told him and Jason nodded smiling as he pushed towards the first corner once more, feeling more alive than he ever had before.  
~~~~~~~~~~~_ _

__

__The room was fairly quiet with only a few other people sitting at tables aside from their own, they looked like businessmen who had been in Gotham travelling on to Star City in the morning._ _

__Bab’s and Cass had paced Jason and Roy around the track for about an hour before calling them in, sweaty and high on adrenaline, their faces bright and hopeful. They had clapped hands pulling each other into an embrace, their foreheads touching as they continued to cherish their growing partnership._ _

__It had been about two pm when Babs called for their first full team meeting and debrief of the day, Jason had always hated the jargon and pomp that came with debriefs but Babs seemed to make it easier stroking his throat as he swallowed down the conversation. She had talked about speeds, aerodynamics, tires, course type, braking, almost everything Jason could think of; having taken so many recordings throughout the entire race process, she was desperate to put them to use._ _

__Roy had looked down to his phone shocked when the clock had read four pm. How had she managed to talk for so long? The more he watched her the more he understood that she would not struggle with extending those two hours to three. The team was dispersed after a couple more minutes and Jason and Roy were invited to dinner at seven, leaving them a load of time to fill._ _

__Jason decided to sink deep into the bath, warm water engulfing him and coaxing his muscles out of their stiff state. His mind was full with the noises of his car as it tore across the track and his body remembered the way Cass had pulled him to her after stepping out of the car, a sign of her detached admiration of Jason._ _

__Whilst Roy showered Jason had sat quietly at the head of his bed reading,chewing his way through Dickins the plot escaping him slightly as he got Tom Gradgrind and Mr Gradgrind mixed up. The clouds were still looming but the rain had stopped and all Jason could hear was the sound of the shower sprinkling down determindley._ _

__As it hit seven they stood at the door to the hallway, fixing their hair and their clothes. Jason was wearing a shirt with the top buttons undone letting his chest breathe freely, his smart trousers making the first appearance of the year; his skin was used to the feeling of rough denim at this point. Roy had pulled his hair back apart from two unruly strands which were hanging in his face, his shirt sleeves rolled up to expose a painted canvas of tattoos which Jason had stared at for a while._ _

__The elevator dinged as they reached the lobby and they strode out together waving to the coy receptionist._ _

__At this point Jason had turned back to Babs reminded of the present moment as she congratulated them on a successful first day with the team. Cass smiled at Jason softly and looked to her phone, obviously checking for notifications from someone._ _

__‘You guys are going to love Steph and Kori.’ Babs smiled as she grabbed her glass of water from the table. She sat on the end of the tabe, the easiest place to access for her chair, Roy and Jason were sat next to each other on the same side as her leaving a space beside Cass for her girlfriend and a space opposite Roy for whoever this Kory was._ _

__‘I’m still not over how good the cars are.’ Roy nudged at Bab’s shoulder. ‘Wayne must have really splashed out on you.’ Jason’s heart fluttered at Wayne’s name and he swirled his water round the glass, the motion reminding of his anxious gut._ _

__‘The whole team is great, not just the cars!’ Babs laughed obviously excited to introduce them to the other two leading members of the matriarch that was Outlaw Sport._ _

__Suddenly a bright voice cut off their small talk. ‘Sorry I had to pick up a stray!’ Stephanie Brown had a comically large hat on, her blonde hair dripping down out of it. She wore a sactual on her hip, her clothes comfy looking; a worn jumper and a denim skirt, her doc martens clomping on the floor._ _

__Cass stood up and hugged Stephanie burying her head into Steph’s shoulder, Jason couldn’t stop himself from smiling as the two were reunited. He was distracted by another voice, this one more smooth than Stephanie’s. ‘Since when has a stray looked as good as this?’ Kori ran her hands along her waist accentuating her curvy figure as she walked towards the group. Jason had to hold Roy’s jaw in place, stopping it from hanging open at the alien-like model who stood in front of them. Her heels clicked on the floor and she wrapped her arms around Babs who had reached up to her._ _

__‘How are you Barbara dear?’ Kori sat down pushing fire red hair behind her shoulder showing the strap of her top which dipped down low showing off all her assets. She pulled a cardigan out of her handbag and threw it round her shoulders, warming her deep skin up._ _

__Babs smiled at Kori, their old comradeship obvious, ‘Good, really good! This is Roy and Jason, our new drivers.’ Kori seemed to look both of them up and down quickly before nodding to them._ _

__‘I am Kori, your new personal assistant.’ She seemed to be impressed with the both of them, she pointed to Jason and he looked scared for a second ‘I like the look.’_ _

__Stephanie, who was now squished next to Cass, her large hat placed on a spare chair, reassured Jason squeezing one of his hands which was lying on the table passively, ‘Kori like aesthetics.’ Kori raised an eyebrow at Stephanie who was now agreeing with her. ‘You guys are going to look so good during press week, you reek drama!’_ _

__Jason tried to smile, last time he checked ‘reek’ was a bad word but he would have to work with it, these two brought the energy to the team as their personalities bounced off each other across the restaurant table._ _

__Steph gestured her hands around frantically. ‘So the important stuff,’ She giggled at Kori, an obvious inside joke, ‘Are you single? Where do you live? What’s your favourite netflix show?’_ _

__Jason and Roy tried not to laugh and looked around the table at Babs and Cass as if to ask whether they were serious or not. Babs shrugged at them, ‘This is how we introduce ourselves’, she pointed over to Kori, ‘It’s good because it helps you get to know the team, like Kori and I dated the same guy and we only found out because of those questions!’_ _

__‘Just a bit awks!’ Kori laughed as she rested her head in her hands, her elbows supporting her body. Jason couldn’t imagine anything worse and his head replayed the scenario in his head feeling the pain between both women. His mind concentrated on the fact, the guy must have been fairly versatile considering Babs and Kori were about as opposite as you could get._ _

__‘I’m single but have a kid. I live in Gotham Central and my favourite netflix show is’, Roy scrubbed at his slight stubble thinking deeply, ‘The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.’ The girls burst out laughing and Jason recoiled in shock at what Roy had said._ _

__Stephanie caught Jason off guard, ‘What about you Jason?’, she had been watching him this entire time, she had a quick eye for sure._ _

__‘Um I’m- I met someone a couple weeks ago but it’s not really a thing.’ He scratched at his head feeling all their eyes on him. ‘I have an apartment in East Gotham and I like David Atenbrorugh.’ He hoped they wouldn’t laugh at him, he wasn’t as funny as Roy- ._ _

__‘I love those documentaries.’ Kori destroyed his worries as she began to explain how much she liked baby turtles and how terrified she got when birds attacked them during the show._ _

__Steph took Cass’ hand and asked Jason, ‘Cass and I were thinking of moving to East Gotham, should we?’_ _

__Jason turned away from the waiter who had been ordering his drink, a vodka and coke, he chortled to himself before looking the young couple in the eyes ‘No, It’s a shithole.’ He turned back to the waiter. Roy observed the way Kori smiled at Babs who shrugged back to her, there was no malice in the look, almost more amusement over Jason’s comment._ _

__‘Okay we won’t move there then.’ Steph kissed one of Cass’ knuckles as she held her hand to Steph’s face._ _

__Jason turned back to the group, his eyes wondering over Kori’s freckled face to her plump upper lip. ‘So who’s the mystery person?’ She caught his eye staring at her and smiled as Jason flushed at the question.  
‘It’s a bit scandalous because he is B-’ Roy had leant forward onto the table before Jason had kicked him foot harshly, their legs concealed by the table._ _

__‘He is nobody you will know.’ Jason scratched at his ear, trying to forget the way Dick had pushed him against the wall during the gala. Roy leant back, smiling to himself as he realised the blackmail material he had on Jason, just in case they ever got into a sticky situation._ _

__The waiter brought them over four pizzas which Babs had ordered earlier and Jason and Roy turned into angry beasts, shoveling cheesy slices onto their plate leaving a small amount for the girls. They had had a difficult day and so the rest of the team could forgive the two men who were now heavily invested in the food on their plate._ _

__The evening continued on positively, laughter brimming from the table as drinks were continued to be ordered. Roy held his eyes on Kori turning away whenever she noticed them, Kori definitely had noticed the way he looked at her; she often got these looks from many men. Babs’ stiffness had ebbed and she was smiling, her cheeks red and rosey, commenting on her own life and not racing for once; it was healthy for her. Cass and Steph were cuddled together, occasionally a kiss landing on the other’s cheek._ _

__As the night creeped over the sky, the group departed heading back to their own rooms, all of them looking forward to the next day when they would be fully forced throughout the whole practice._ _

__Jason threw himself onto his bed, curling into the sheets and smiling softly, feeling extremely appreciated and loved for once. Roy was sat on the end of his bed, the sound of facetime beeps radiating from his phone. ‘Hi monster!’ He grinned, Jason could tell that he was talking to Lian; there was a certain inflection in his voice which showed the peak of his positivity._ _

__‘Daddy, we had cookies and then we went to the park.’ She was breathing heavily, having obviously been running around. ‘When are you coming home?’_ _

__Roy sighed, ‘That sounds great monkey! I am back in four days.’ Jason turned over to watch him, as Roy held his phone up to his face._ _

__‘Four days!’ Lian shouted obviously unimpressed with the distance from her dad._ _

__‘Yes, monster. Remember I told you I have to look after Jay Jay.’ Jason’s heart warmed and he held his hand to his chest feeling happiness surge through his veins. He seemed to have found home and his mind was quietly silencing Roy and his conversation with the devil. Falling back into the cotton sheets, his feet hanging off the bed, he wished that everyday of his life could be as amazing as the present had been._ _

__Normally he would worry he was peaking too soon but he cemented his thinking. If the present was too soon then he couldn’t wait for what the perfect time would be. He would show them all._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter!
> 
> Stay safe and wear a mask :)


	8. Flesh and bones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Removed from the Outlaws another team begins to blossom. A bond begins to form between the emerald drivers and Jason's rival for the crown makes himself clear. However, in the end, Luthor poses the most danger to his racers; they can only race for so long on low fuel.
> 
> Pulling his visor down, his world turned dark only his friend's love kept his own heart pumping. The only reason to feel like himself, not the machine which was placed in the cockpit every morning. His teammate was the only thing that made him a human, you see robots can't feel love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW// Eating disorder, vomit, and mentioned self-harm imagery
> 
> Hello everyone! I hope you haven't missed PPP that much over the last two weeks. As I am going back to working these chapters will normally be posted every 2 weeks unless I have been speedy with the writing lol. I hope everyone enjoys this chapter as much as I loved writing it so much :)
> 
> Kudos and comments appreciated!

His lips were soft against Tim’s pale skin. Tim’s neck stretched out showing off the elegance of his good breeding which his parents so often boasted. Kon’s nose nudged at Tim’s soft jaw, nestling further into Tim’s body as they basked in each other's glow. As Tim ran his hands through Kon’s dark hair he heard a soft groan escape his lips, Tim’s skillful hands working their way into his partner’s scalp as Janet Drake had taught him to. His fingertips skimmed through Kon’s hair and dipped down to the back of his neck, moving in slow circles as he planted a soft kiss to the crown of his head.

Kon looked up to him with large eyes, steely blue staring at Tim, Kon’s body having twisted around so that he was propped up on his elbow, Kon’s chin resting on Tim’s chest which raised and dipped ever so evenly.

‘What are you looking at?’ Tim smiled, his voice cracking as he felt Kon’s gaze harden.

Kon pushed himself up so that his body was now above Tim’s, crowding over the smaller man, a hand cradling Tim’s chin as he grinned down at him. ‘You birdbrain.’ He leaned down, catching Tim’s mouth with his own, Tim’s head leaned back on a plush cushion, his hair spread elegantly around his head. As Kon pulled away Tim reached up slightly wishing the warmth in his cheeks and stomach would linger for longer.

Kon’s fingers brushed over Tim’s raven hair humming slightly to himself as he felt a strand between his finger and his thumb. Pulling himself up, Tim pushed at Kon, fake wrestling him across the bed. Kon laughed as Tim pawed at his cotton shirt, pushing the larger man around, his eyebrows furrowed as he focused one hundred percent on the task; as always Kon thought to himself. Realising he was not in the moment Tim grabbed at Kon’s wrists holding them above his head, his own legs straddling Kon’s middle. He grinned as he realised the position they were in and let go of Kon’s wrist, arching his back as he slid down Kon’s chest, his ass still firmly planted on his crotch. Kon raised his eyebrows at Tim, watching Tim run his fingers along his chest to hold the side of his racer’s neck. The smaller man’s chest was flush to Kon’s as he kissed him once more. Rosey lips meeting pale as they closed their eyes, fingers threaded together, relaxing into the other’s aura.

Tim breathed in heavily as he pulled away, feeling Kon’s hands run down his back towards his hips. There they settled Kon nudging at Tim’s jaw once more, begging for his affection. The two joined together once more becoming lost in the way Tim’s hips began to push down onto Kon.

A knock at the door.

Tim pulled away, immediately looking up towards the door, his legs swinging off of his partner and the bed. He clicked his fingers at Kon mouthing ‘Get in the bathroom.’ shimmying his shorts down to cover his ass. Mercy stood at the door, her hairline screaming for some help as it was pulled back by a slick high ponytail, she radiated a cold distance which Tim understood and yet feared; he would hate life too if he was Luthor’s PA.

‘Good morning Timothy, have you seen Conner?’ Tim gulped at what she said and mentally masked himself, the rich parent’s son who everyone wanted to know was better at masking emotions than the normal Tim.

‘No, why is he not in his room?’

‘No. See you at practice in five.’ She looked him up and down obviously confused why he was still in his pajamas, her eyes scanning his room validating that he was telling the truth.

Tim turned his back to the door after it was closed and smiled pulling his crescent moons bangs out of his face. Poking his head through the door he pouted at Kon, ‘Get going lover boy.’, he gestured towards the door before pushing Kon towards the door.  
‘And what if I want to see you change?’ The six-foot racer smiled down at him, the sun now highlighting the peaks of his cheekbones, reminding Tim of some sort of greek god staring down upon his feeble frame.

He pursed his lips pretending to contemplate what Kon had asked. ‘Hmmm, no!’ He pushed him through the door slamming it shut on his, his, Kon.

Pulling his jumper off, Tim looked at himself in the mirror; his cheeks were pink with heat, highlighting a gaunt face, deep-set eyes which were decorated with deep bags he had gained from years of not sleeping. Running his hands over his chest he felt his ribs, which poked out from beneath his skin begging for attention. His slim hips highlighted a feminine trait which Tim carried throughout his entire persona, a waist which one could wrap a hand around, soft hair which he pulled back into a loose ponytail, rosy lips which faded out at the edges towards his skin.

He was tiny, something that made people believe he was easy to beat, those olive lips smirked so slightly. Tim grabbed his underlayer pulling it over his head, adjusting the collar so that it pulled at his skin, he observed the small mark that Kon had left him with. Concealer could fix that.

In the garage, the voices around him blurred into a sea of droning noises, similar to a lighthouse and its constant sounding whenever fog rolled off the dark sea. Multiple hands touched him, his body a cold shell of himself as people moved his head around, placing the cold helmet over his hair filled balaclava and pushing it down harshly onto his bony shoulders; the helmet blinding him of the edges of his vision and he looked around behind him to see his teammate talking to his peers. Tim would rather slit his throat than ever talk to any of the people around them, his eyes turning cold as he transitioned into his professional self, removed from all emotion which he had ever felt.

He felt those eyes on him and as his own trailed up to meet Kon he pulled his visor down, darkening his vision. Kon stared through him and Tim felt some sort of way as he did, pink flowers blooming in his steel gut.

_Tim paced back and forth, gathering his equipment from around his large room. His parents, having just returned from a trip to São Paulo late last evening, were calling him from the bottom of the stairs, stating that he had practice._

_In the car on the way to the karting arena, he twiddled his thumbs, playing a game on his phone to distract his speedy mind from his parent's harsh tone and cutting glow. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the gravel drive to Wayne Manor, perhaps his life would be different if he had grown up there instead of the Drake correctional facility._

_Janet sat next to him, their chauffeur in the driving seat, and huffed as she scolded her offspring pulling the phone out of his hand. ‘No games. It affects your concentration.’_

_‘But-‘_

_‘And I thought we had gotten over the talking back.’ She threw the old mobile into the bottom of her designer bag, shaking her head at the boy. ‘You know you have to focus on your mind,’ she looked out the window, ‘you don’t have much else going for you. Did you eat supper last night?’_

_‘Yes.’_

_‘And yet Belita told me you didn’t.’ Belita being Tim’s beloved Cuban nanny, a woman who had coddled the boy on lonely and cold nights, his parents having decided that business shares were more important than a young and impressionable child._

_‘I-‘_

_‘Honestly, Timothy you look like a bag of bones. How am I supposed to marry you when you look like this.’ Her plans for her boy were long and confusing, more in-depth than Tim could imagine but yet shallow as the creek which sat atop the jungle floor. He would marry into a rich family, shame Wayne never had girls, pick up the business, and have a child at the age of 22, approaching 18 at the time of the car ride._

_A couple of issues Tim raised at the thought of her so often mentioned plans. One, he was gay and didn’t want to marry for money. Two, he wanted to be a racer or a streamer, juvenile but true. Three, he would never want to create a small version of himself, it would be cruel._

_Only once at the karting ring did Janet leave, letting Tim’s skin regain some sort of colour; the olive undertones oh so apparent. People waited on him, passing him his equipment just before he could grab it, buttoning him up, pulling his visor down, locking him into the racing world._

_In the kart, he was known for being a dick, tool, or straight up knob. Approaching every angle with critical accuracy, he cared little for the fun of racing as he felt nothing. No sort of emotion grasped him as he set a new record, no sort of fear crawled over him as he spun out of control, he couldn’t feel pain and he guessed that was dangerous._

_As he continued to cut another driver off, swinging the back end of his kart around the corner and smashing it into the opposing chassis, he felt eyes watching him with a cold stare. Pulling to a stop, he jumped out of the cart only to be struck by Lex Luther eyeing him up like a strung-out piece of meat, his brain thick spilling with concentration and awareness. He had learned everything he could and it was beginning to pay off in practice._

_‘Timothy your mother and I have made a deal.’_

_‘Alright.’ Tim replied with slight caution, feeling his real self begin to pull off the monster's mask._

_‘You are going to race for me next season.’ The words hung in the air and Tim tasted a slight bile at the back of his throat._

_He’d never even raced on a real track before let alone alongside Garth Ranzz and Wally West, he had always wanted this but now it felt so wrong; tarnished by his mother's filthy bloody hands._

_‘Your mother does not want you to race but I do.’_

_‘I can’t believe-‘ He was silenced once more but by Lex this time._

_‘If you win I get to keep you. If you lose you never race again.’_

_‘I didn’t agree to this.’ Tim shook his head finally realising the pressure which Janet had chosen to pummel him under._

_Lex laughed and Tim felt a sharp pain pierce through his mind. ‘That my boy, doesn’t matter.’_

_His life passed from one’s hands to another’s. He was a bag of bones after all. ‘Careful, package fragile’ he thought._

In practice belonging to Luthor had its ups, money being one of them, a comfortable lifestyle another, being the center of attention all the time definitely. Tim watched as blood poured out of Lex’s steak, knife carving deep into vulnerable flesh; it made sense for Luthor to want the cow basically kicking in his mouth. Looking to his own plate he pushed some diced potatoes around his plate, pushing cream and green stalks to the edge of the ceramic. His leg bounced under the table as the sound of his fork scraped through more thick sauce, watching it congeal like blood scabbing over his wrists.

Placing his fork into his mouth, he chewed the potato round his molars struggling with the heavy texture on his tongue. He put his fork down as he concentrated on pushing the starch round his tongue before swallowing loudly forcing the cube down his throat, squeezing his thumb to stop him from gagging at the intrusion.

‘How was your practice, Timothy?’ Lex smiled at the rookie in front of him, how lucky he had been to find this machine racing around the F2 karting track.

Tim was pleased to abandon the food in front of him in exchange for a conversation and pushed his fork to the side. ‘Good. The car is fast and Kon and I were making good times.’

‘How was your practice, Timothy?’ Tim held his breath as Lex chewed on another piece of meat, ‘Conner does not bother me. You are much better than he is.’ Tim scratched at his wrist pulling his cuff away from his skin, he felt pain settle in his middle, Kon was his closest friend. He was important, a talented man, whom for some reason Lex hated.

‘My practice,’ he cleared his throat, ‘was good. I hit top speed for the week and set a record time for the lap.’

Lex looked up at what he had said, shock animating his face as he put his fork down from his mouth. ‘Record time?’

The rookie driver remained calm pushing a piece of broccoli into his mouth, his plate still mainly intact. ‘Yep. I went faster than Ranzz in 2018.’ Luther watched Tim eat, smiling at the boy. Ranzz had raced the circuit when he won the championship, setting the record for the time. None had passed it since then and yet the skinny boy in front of him had just admitted to beating the record without a single thought skipping across his face.

As Tim walked away from the table, excused from dinner his plate full as always, Lex felt a grin brace his thin lips. No one would suspect him.

Slipping away from the restaurant Tim found solace in escaping his captive, Luthor was a harsh man with a smile which was similar to that of an orca; chewing on the fatty blubber of his victims. Tim knew the meat on his bones would never sate Luthor’s want for blood, the win which bled gold and deep; similar to how the river sticks ran fast and quick.

Pushing out of the hotel lobby, he found himself braced by the sound of music pounding. The Metropolis circuit was a staple in the World Wide tour unlike the more recent tracks, Gotham-Star, Westcoast, Hideki, and others which had been built to nourish an era of huge US-centric investment into the sport as a whole. As a touring circuit, the area around him had been built up, hotels, restaurants, clubs, and places where all sorts of nefarious acts could be committed. Normally, during the race weekend, the plaza he stood in would turn into a festival of people dancing and shouting about, cheering as their racer pulled around the corner. The evening buzzed with excitement.

The club, which pulsed a purple colour, was obviously a favourite of rich locals who could afford the ride out of town; Tim wouldn’t know as he never really left Gotham. Moving past the club he continued on to a less built area away from the main plaza which’s small trees contrasted the smell of burnt rubber which rolled off the track like a wave. Here was their meeting place, a small square encased in high stone walls; somewhat of their secret garden.

‘I’m sorry I took so long.’ He smiled at Kon pushing through the gate into the garden where Kon sat on a minimalist bench, his short shirt hugging built shoulders and upper arms. Kon looked up to see him and Tim watched as his eyes milled over Tim; his shirt undone at the top and his cuffs still linking those bony wrists. Falling into Kon’s arms Tim sighed as he felt his mind relax, being hyper-focused all the time was a physical strain as much as a mental one.

‘How was dinner?’ Kon pulled Tim into his lap, pushing a few strands of his hair back away from Tim’s meaningful eyes. ‘You eat something?’ His hand brushed Tim’s cheek watching as Tim processed what he was being asked.  
He hummed slightly, his pupils flickering behind his eyelids. ‘It was fine. Luthor wanted to know how we did today.’

Kon laughed slightly, ‘Luthor wanted to know how you did today.’, he shook his head before looking up to the sky which had begun to turn dark with the night.

Tim sat up turning to look at Kon, feeling a slight pain in his lungs. ‘You are just as important as I am Kon. This is a team after all.’

Kon pulled Tim towards him so that the rookie was held captive in his strong arms.’ Tim,’ He pulled another piece of Tim’s hair back behind his ear, ‘I love you but you must understand that although here we are equal, on the track you are my superior and Luthor knows this.’

‘What if I don’t want that?’ Tim cocked his head to the side as he threaded a hand through the back of his hair. ‘I just want to be like everyone else for once.’ He was whispering now, aware of the sound of people walking close to the tall walls

Kon pulled away slightly as the women’s chatter grew louder, concentrating on whether it was one of their wardens. ‘But you are Tim Drake and therefore you can’t be normal.’ He drawled back to him, letting Tim’s jaw drop into his palm.

‘I never wanted to be Tim Drake.’ Tim whispered to him, his lips ghosting Kon’s palm as he looked up to him, brown eyes full of intrigue and sadness; a melancholy that remained in Kon’s soul whenever he thought of Tim.

Kon pulled Tim’s face up to his own and leaned into his mouth, joining the two of them together in a sad sort of union. As he pulled away, he smiled at the rookie, ‘But I love you Tim Drake and I don’t want you to be anyone else.’ Tim laughed at Kon and raised an eyebrow as he squished his lover’s cheeks together.

‘You’, he planted a quick kiss on his cheek, ‘are’, another kiss to the other cheek, ‘a’, his forehead, ‘sob’, finally he placed the chaste kiss to his lips as Kon laughed softly.

Tim felt the flowers returning within his stomach and felt each singular petal, the moonshine which dripped into that bloody tissue shimmering like a wet pebble. The time ticking down until Mercy patrolled the corridor on which their rooms sat making sure that they were sleeping, her presence the opposite of calming. They shuffled off of each other and walked back to their separate rooms making sure to stay far enough apart to convince their managers that they were not too close. Complex relationships 'damaged’ Tim’s mind. Conner was only here because he had to be a defensive driver to allow the young rookie to steal the win. His only purpose was to serve his glorious prince.

Tim went to bed with a warm stomach, his emotions rushing through his blood as he wrapped his legs around the warm mass of duvet which represented the only person who had ever loved him, not his mind, not his body, him. Perhaps Kon could help him learn to love himself to some extent, all bones but with a deep sense of self which represented the truth, not the monster who Luthor kept on the end of his chain.

~~~~~~~~~~~

His lips were soft against Tim’s pale skin, his neck stretched out showing off the elegance of his good breeding which his parents so often boasted. Tim leaned forwards mouthing at Kon’s chin, his hands moving to feel the muscle beneath Kon’s top which he slept in. Kon had once more snuck into Tim’s room early in the morning, the only time they could be together apart from their late-night escapades.

Tim jumped off the bed at the sound of a knock on the door, ‘Conner is missing again, have you seen him?’

‘No.’ Tim cocked his head at Mercy’s question, Kon hidden in his bathroom once more. She looked unimpressed and went to move into the room. Tim stepped to the side blocking her path, ‘I have some personal stuff in here you probably wouldn’t want to see.’

She relaxed fakely, smiling at him, and stepped back out into the hallway. ‘Ten minutes.’

Pushing the helmet onto his head, he felt a headache coming on, stranger’s hands adjusting his kit into place. Out of the corner of his eye he watched as Kon pulled his own kit on, maybe two or three people helping him; a huge contrast to the ten who were not allowing Tim to help himself one bit. He let out a sigh of discontent and tried to send Kon a message through his eyes, he wasn’t allowed to talk to Kon during training as it ‘disturbed his concentration’. Something that was becoming a recurring theme in his time with Metropolis Power.

Even through Kon’s visor, which he had pulled down, Tim could tell the look those grey eyes were giving him. Pink petals springing up and down in a healthy manner.

‘How was practice, Timothy?’ Tim looked up to see Kon had been replaced by a hungry Luthor. He slowed the cube of potato and felt it scrape his throat as it sunk to his stomach. Happy to retire his cutlery, he put them down, clearing his throat before speaking.

‘It was good. We practiced pit stops and recorded the time it took to get tires on and off.’ He picked at his nails, not enjoying his dinner as usual.

‘Good. Any records?’ Luthor lifted up a piece of steak, juice dripping out of the meat, red wine staining the crystal glass that was on the right of his plate.

Tim looked up from his hands. ‘Not today.’ They sat in silence as Luthor chewed on the meat before taking a mouthful of wine. Tim felt relieved by the fact that he hadn’t done well, he had been normal, average, no better than the rest of them. He looked over his shoulder at the clock, Kon was waiting for him and the seconds kept ticking away.

Luthor stared at the back of Tim’s head, his frantic turning to the clock indicating that he had somewhere to be. ‘I don’t know what you are so desperate to leave to?’ He shrugged as he held his wine glass, red staining his tongue and inner mouth.

Tim snapped around with a slightly worried expression on his face. ‘Nothing Mr. Luthor, I enjoy our dinners together.’ He hiccuped as he reached forwards to pick up his fork and force more food down his throat.

Luthor laughed softly and he gestured at Tim, ‘No, it’s fine Tim. You are a young man and I am holding your evening up, feel free to go. See you tomorrow.’ He smiled at Tim as the young boy walked off, as Tim walked through the door he clicked his fingers calling a waiter over. ‘Follow him and when you find where he has gone come back here and tell me.’

Tim straddled Kon’s waist as they embraced each other, the wind rustling through the leaves as the rookie relaxed into Kon’s large arms. ‘Did you eat?’ Kon asked and Tim hummed in reply as Kon began to kiss up Tim’s neck. At the sound of footsteps, they pulled away from each other, posing as they sat next to each other. The white uniform flashed past the gate and Tim furrowed his brows, restaurant staff never walked out this far.

‘We should go back.’

‘Already? You’ve only been here for fifteen minutes.’ Kon’s tone was dripping with sadness which Tim could dive into, wallowing in Kon’s blue sea.

‘I know.’, he shushed Kon’s words with a kiss, ‘I just don’t want people to find out, they won’t let us be together.’

‘Okay.’

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim jolted forwards at the sound of the knock, pulling his shirt back on and running towards the door. Throwing it open, Mercy sighed ‘Conner?’, looking back into the room, Tim’s hair ruffled as a bruise began to purple on his throat.

‘Nope.’ Tim smiled shrugging as Mercy scanned his face for the truth. He hoped he wouldn’t crack.

‘Ten minutes.’

‘Yep.’

Pulling his visor down, his world turned dark only Kon’s love kept his heart pumping. The only reason to feel like himself, not the machine which was placed in the cockpit every morning. Kon was the only thing that made him a human, you see robots can't feel love.

‘Good.’, he smiled, ‘I did a block of laps and practiced crash recovery. Kon broke his record which is great as well.’ Tim flushed at the memory of how Kon had jumped out of his car punching the air, Tim grinning as he felt Kon’s happiness seep through their bond.

‘Timothy,’ Luthor sighed as he put his fork down, it was time to bury this issue, ‘You are too concerned with Kent. I worry that you are losing focus because you are too invested in your relationship with him.’

‘But we are teammates, surely I can be friends with him-’

‘See?’, Luthor gestured towards Tim with a disappointed look bracing his face, ‘You are obsessed with him.’ He shook his head as Tim’s bottom lip wobbled ever so slightly. ‘Mercy tells me that you are getting slower, sloppier, more reckless, words that I never thought I would use to describe you, Timothy.’ Tim chewed on his lip as Luthor continued to scold the rookie.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t-’

He was interrupted, ‘You are not to talk to him anymore.’ Luthor wiped his mouth clean and placed the napkin down on the table. ‘And you are going to eat.’ He pushed the plate back at the boy whose face had gone extremely pale at the interaction.

‘I can’t.’

‘You can and you will.’

Tim picked up the fork, eyes flicking up to Luthor and back down to the plate. Potatoes were fine, easy to chew and swallow, meaning that he could force them down without choking. Once he had finished pushing them around he moved to the meat, chicken slathered in the thick sauce. He breathed heavily as he cut into it, a piece of flesh on his fork, sauce dripping down onto the plate. Stuffing it into his mouth he dropped his fork, his throat closing as Luthor watched him intently. He held his hand to his throat as the feeling began to set in, cream swelling around his mouth as he tried to hold it together. Luthor raised an eyebrow when he heard Tim gag, the boy coming undone as he tried to swallow the piece. The sound of his gagging echoed through the restaurant and a young woman rushed forwards, thinking the kid was choking.

‘Leave it.’ Luther snarled at the woman and she stepped away confused. Tim stood up, fear the only emotion which braced his face, bending over as his hand came away from his throat as he felt bile rise up over his tongue.

He pathetically covered his mouth as he threw up, not stopping anything as he returned his food to the floor. Tears streamed from his eyes, embarrassment paling his face as Luthor stood up and called a cleaner over. Luthor rubbed the boy’s back trying to calm his breaths which came quick and fast, ‘See how ridiculous this is? All over a friend.’  
But he wasn’t a friend. Kon was the only person who had ever loved Tim, cradled his face as they lay together in his bed, the reassuring smile at the gala who had sat him at the bar and explained how everything worked, he had introduced him to the big names and squeezed his hand when Wayne and Harper had asked him so many questions. He couldn’t live without the support that Kon offered him and Luthor had taken his life and caged it up.

He had never truly lived until Kon, stolen kisses and passion which raged through their blood, the stiff shirts so trivial if it meant he could be held by Kon at the end of the day.

The bile left a wilted stem that screamed for his help. Pink washed away in return for rotten maggot infested death.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim woke to a furious knocking on his door. Pulling his legs out from under the crisp, cold sheets he noted how empty his stomach felt, his breath still stinking of vomit. Opening the door he froze when he saw Kon smiling at him, his eyes sparkling gorgeously.

‘I don’t feel great Kon.’ Tim sniffled trying not to look Kon in the eye feeling his heart shrivel at the memories from last night.

Kon looked concerned when Tim didn’t open the door fully, ‘Are you okay? You didn’t show up last night.’ He went to walk through the door but was confused when Tim held the door in place.

‘Please Kon, we can’t do this.’ Tim rubbed his eyes not wanting to have to explain himself to Kon. Mercy was probably right, Kon was making him slower as he was taking on such a large emotional burden.

Kon’s eyes were blank as he looked around him trying to work out what his lover was saying, ‘What do you mean this?’, his foot was in the doorway now; pain beginning to bleed out of Kon like the pulp of the dragon fruit; fiery and dark.

‘We can’t be messing around anymore.’

‘Messing around!’ He let out a heavy huff and his eyes were furrowed. ‘Is that all you think of me?’ Tim moved back in surprise at Kon’s emotive response, unable to read Tim’s sullen eyes.

‘Kon please.’ It was a whine that left Tim’s mouth, a cry that reached deep down into Kon’s very persona and rattled his very being. Only a day ago had he moaned into Tim’s open mouth, promising him everything he had to offer, to give him his very being as a sacrifice.

‘Where has this come from?’ He said softly, as he stepped forwards slowly into the room filling the gap Tim had left. Taking Tim’s head into his hands, he leaned forwards his eyes level to Tim’s which were filled with blue crystal water which mirrored Tim’s already so blue eyes. ‘You told me you loved me.’ His voice was quiet as Tim began to sob in his hands. Searching Tim’s face for an answer, realisation dawned on his mind as the sun rolled over the horizon outside their room, he had been told this. ‘Luthor found out.’

The door was pushed shut now and Tim continued to cry, more freely now that only Kon could hear his lamenting sighs, he nodded in Kon’s hand; his legs shook as he felt the sick feeling returning to his empty body. ‘He’, he gulped for air as more tears rolled down, ‘he doesn’t know about, about us’, another gulp, ‘but he says I can’t talk to you anymore because you make me lose concentration.’

Kon looked shocked, his hands coming away from Tim’s face as he examined what the rookie had just said. ‘And you believe it?’ He shrugged as he asked the question feeling heat rise in his own face.

Tim struggled to form any words and he looked to Kon with pleading eyes, hoping that somehow Kon would save him from the golden cage Luthor had placed him in.  
‘You believe him over me.’ Kon shook his head as he realised what Tim’s silence meant. ‘Are you that desperate to win?’ His honesty pierced through Tim’s ribcage and the younger man shook his head in despair trying to stop the inevitable.

Tim wiped his eyes as he gathered his breath. ‘This is my dream.’ Trying to justify something that was not justifiable at all was extremely difficult. The words which had spilled from his mouth were selfish, emotionless, unthinking of all other factors in his life; an image of his mother forced his way into his head. He sounded like her.

‘And what about my dreams Tim?’ Kon asked, now sounding just as exhausted as Tim was ‘What about everything I want?’ Kon couldn’t believe how Tim had been so easily convinced that Kon was nothing more than a distraction, loving Tim had been the best part of his time so far with the team.

Tim shrugged, his tear-stained face sunken deep into embarrassment and grief for their young love. He could hear his blood pulsing around his body, his breath rancid with sick and desperation.

Kon stepped back from him slowly and shook his head at what seemed like the end of everything they had nurtured, their young art which had been slashed by aggressive dominance. ‘See you at practice.’ He let himself out of the door in disbelief, his heart hanging heavy in his chest; how could they recover from this?

Tim sunk to the floor when the door closed, his head in his hands as he felt something inside him die. Something crawled over his spine, the coldness of the monster which ruled his driving psych was stating its claim on his normal self. He had never allowed this before but as he felt his hope drift away along the river of time, the rookie gave in letting himself be overcome by the cold.

In the garage he remained still, happy that others dressed him, their normally so cold hands providing comfort to his icy skin. His visor turned the world to black and he stretched his leather gloves out as someone led him to his car. He turned to look at Kon, his tall stature staring right back at the rookie, Tim felt nothing as he turned away from Kon to listen to Mercy who prepared him on the course of the day.

‘Good luck.’ He heard a voice sound from the other side of the garage, he ignored Kon’s encouragement knowing that if he spoke his voice would give away a wave of emotion that even the monster was struggling to suppress. Kon rolled his eyes under his helmet, he knew Tim better than anyone, and yet Tim had shut him out, aching heart heavy he walked to his car and jumped in. Tim couldn’t run from his love forever, he would eventually crash.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Stood in the mirror, as the moon ascended over the hotel, Tim felt sick to his stomach. Running a thumb over his stomach he shivered at the emptiness that ruled him; he looked even bonier than before a poor excuse for a human let alone a man. Slim hips that read weak, sick, and feminine. Deep eyes that screamed for help, bags that represented a child who had never been a child. Handshaking, he touched his throat, his fingers braced the slight bruise on his neck; Kon’s last mark on his placid skin. As he wrapped an arm around his tiny waist he screwed his eyes shut trying so desperately not to cry for the fourth time today.

Upon opening his eyes to his reflection once more he noted ‘Careful, package fragile.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay safe and wear a mask!
> 
> Kudos and comments appreciated <3
> 
> See ya in 2 weeks :)


	9. New and established

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was obvious this outfit was made to impress the racer who Grayson had continually dreamed of, Damian had noticed how Grayson seemed to sit up whenever Outlaw was mentioned; his eyes drifting up into his head as he wandered off into his memories of the tall man. Damian would admit that he was attractive and definitely Richard’s physical type although Grayson was a terrible judge of character and would look past the worst of traits; Damian remembered how the smell of smoke had congealed with the wet tarmac.
> 
> However, Dick knew that the question he was going to ask Jason had an inevitable nature.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people! Here with another chapter which finally has more Jaydick in it so there, next time it will be more filler content lol. If anyone is interested in real-life racing the race 2 weeks ago at Mugello was insane so if you want to see something dramatic I would recommend that!
> 
> I hope that everyone enjoys this chapter and especially Damian calling Dick out constantly (as he should).
> 
> Kudos and comments appreciated :)
> 
> Stay safe and wear a mask <3
> 
> Also, thanks Vani for being an all-round amazing friend and amazing person.

Pulling his socks up over his ankles, Damian watched himself in the mirror as he adjusted the soft material around his foot, any sort of crease would itch at his mind all day. He yanked his large window in, shutting off the soft summer light from seeping into his square room. Damian, personally, preferred autumn to summer; the way the leaves fell in the orchid reminding him of some old tune his mother would hum into the shell of his ear. Of course, the season would start in September, racing of course, for that was why Damian made sure he looked perfect. The night before, Damian’s father had announced that he would be visiting the Gotham-Star track to see Outlaw Power race around the track. Of course, Damian had remembered, this interrupted his personal plans of going to Wayne Enterprise and watching the fish in his father’s aquarium spin round in circles for hours, and he had been reluctant to go with his father. 

There had been an incident; a squeal of tires, a cloud of smoke, a hail storm of rubber and a scream which had branded its place into his brain.

Therefore, he was hesitant looking to his older brother for support as he secretly wished to see a car race again. His urges against his mind, he noted, a battle which mankind fought every single day; not easy to conquer or forget and a problem reluctant to solve itself.

And yet! Dick had sat up in his seat, his dark hair falling in front of his face, ‘I think, I may come.’ He had said brushing off Bruce’s confused expression with a brief smile. ‘It will be good for us to get out as a family.’ 

Damian had sneered, Grayson knew how to get his way with their father. This had nothing to do with ‘family’ and it had everything to do with the smoke breathed, leather-covered, sharp jawed, emerald-eyed, daredevil biker who also, conveniently, raced for father. Richard had once more toppled into the well of feeling which he indulged in and after a couple of months, he would emerge red-eyed, covering over the deep pit with some sort of concrete block.

Pushing the door closed behind him, Damian wandered through the corridor to Dick’s bedroom, the light spilling from beneath the dark oak door. Hearing Grayson’s melodic tone drift up from the main lobby Damian turned away from the door, skipping past the huge mirror and down the stairs to where his father was smiling at his oldest.

That smile caused something to rumble in his throat as he stopped on the bottom step of the cascade. He watched the way father’s lips moved as he spoke to Grayson, who was pulling a hand through his gorgeous hair, which framed that perfect face.

‘Little D?’ Damian jumped to see both Bruce and Dick staring at him. ‘You okay? You kinda just stared at us for a minute or two.’ A small breath escaped Dick’s expression as he looked to his little brother.

‘All is fine Grayson.’

‘Is your bag ready son?’ Bruce repeated the question which Damian had obviously ignored previously. His overnight bag had been prepared by Pennyworth and was placed neatly by the front door, contrasting the overflowing backpack which screamed Dick Grayson.

Damian nodded and pushed past the pair to the kitchen, where Alfred was pouring him a flask of Karkadek for him and he bristled at the sight, bowing to the butler as he was passed a Tupperware of his favourite Shakshuka. Holding the warm box to his chest, he walked back to his father and picked up his small bag.

‘What do you have there?’ Bruce smiled at his son.

‘Shakshuka.’ Damian grinned, presenting the tub which’s the lid was steaming up rapidly.

Dick adjusted his deep v-neck in the reflection of the marble walls, ‘Shak-what-ka?’, his clothes reflecting his role of the billionaire's son; from the acid jeans to the sunglasses which were rooted into his coly hair.

‘Shakshuka’, Bruce corrected Richard with a slight glance, aware of Damian’s attachment to his home, ‘It’s a traditional breakfast dish with tomato, zucchini, hot sauce and eggs on top.’ 

‘Sounds gross.’ The oldest stuck his tongue out at the youngest, who stomped his foot in protest at the disrespect which Richard possessed.

‘Mother used to make it for me on my birthday and it is not gross at all!’ He hugged the tub close and walked past the both of them, jumping down the stairs to the garage.

Richard shrugged to Bruce, ‘I guess we are off then.’ he threw his own bag over his shoulder, Bruce staring at the colourful print of Dick’s shirt. ‘What?’ Dick cocked his head.

‘You look like a 1970’s pornstar.’ 

‘Exactly.’ Smiling, he hopped down the stairs and a laugh drifted up to Bruce. How could one have such contradicting sons?

~~~~~~~~~~~

‘It’s friday.’

‘Does that mean Wayne is coming today?’

‘Yep.’

‘Shit.’

‘Good luck lover boy!’

~~~~~~~~~~~

The purr of the rover riding the autoway was calming to Damian’s mind. Popping open his warm Tupperware, he felt home rush through his veins, the smell welcoming a deep memory inside him to the forefront of his consciousness. He sat firmly in the middle of the back of the car, Richard sat accompanying his father who drove the car with a firm grip and a watchful eye. Grayson leaned back into the seat, tipping his head back to let his hair fall into gravity’s palm. His fingers fiddled with the volume of the radio and ever so often Bruce turned, with annoyance dripping from his eyes, and flicked Dick’s hand away as Damian laughed at their oldest brother.

Shovelling hot breakfast into his mouth he savoured the taste, a cloudy image of his mother oh so clear now. Pennyworth was an almalak for sure. ‘That stinks.’ Richard interrupted his minute of peace.

‘You are a child Grayson.’ Damian looked up to him, putting his fork down and gesturing around in the defence of his love.

‘No. You are the child.’ Dick was grinning now.

‘Well we can argue about semantics but you are immature either way.’

‘No. You are immature.’ 

‘I am not!’

‘Yup you are.’ Dick picked at his fingernails, the turn of his lips a signal of his satisfaction with winding the young Wayne up.

‘No.’

‘Ya.’

‘Grayson I swear.’ Damian was reaching for his seat belt buckle and looked prepared to throw himself across the car. Richard stared straight at him before sticking his tongue out at the boy.

Damian launched himself forwards-

‘Hey!’ Father put his hand across Damian’s chest. ‘Not whilst I’m driving.’ Damian conceded, sinking back into the faux leather seat so he could continue to shovel hot tomatoes into his greedy mouth. 

Grayson grinned as he returned his hand back to the volume of the radio, obviously bored of the long journey to the Gotham-Star track. 

‘Are you only here to cause trouble Dick?’ Bruce sighed as the tension in the car fell.

Grayson scoffed and turned to face his father, ‘You don’t appreciate my company and support Bruce?’, Damian noted the way his eyes glistened with admiration.

‘No.’ He took a breath. ‘You just hate racing.’

‘I’m here as your son to support you.’ Richard faced forwards and watched the cars moving ahead of him. ‘Of course I have an objection to your support of such an awful sport but’, he scrubbed his face, ‘I concede that as your son I have duties to fulfil and this is one of them.’

Silence fell upon them for a second.

‘Never feel obliged.’ Bruce said softly, understanding the pain racing had caused his ever so cheerful son; who was now silent, his lips pursed as he replayed the cursed memory in his head.

Richard nodded and the conversation ended there. Damian watched as the time ticked down slowly, his Tupperware stowed away in a side pocket of the rover. Placing the hot tea to his lips, he watched as they moved off the main road; seeing a sign for their destination.

The sun was hiding behind a polluted cloud and it hung in the middle of the sky, it having taken a couple of hours to finally reach the track. As the car rolled up to the barrier they all sat up, Bruce chatting with the young woman who was operating the barrier; her face flush with red and roses.

The barrier lifted after she put her walkie talkie down and Bruce pushed the car through into the carpark, reversing back into a narrow space, which was completely empty apart from what looked like a family car with a kids seat in the back. At the sound of the engine clicking off, Damian launched himself out of the car stretching his arms up, like a kitten after a long nap. He watched as a man in some sort of uniform rushed over to them and grabbed Bruce, who had now got out of the car himself, shaking his hand enthusiastically. Richard flipped his sunglasses down, crossing his arms to pull his tasteless v neck even further down than it already was. Damian rolled his eyes at his older brother and his attempt at fashion, he didn’t think the man who wore leather and raced F1 cars would enjoy the pink floral v neck and high waisted jeans. 

It was obvious this outfit was made to impress the racer who Grayson had continually dreamed of, Damian had noticed how Grayson seemed to sit up whenever Outlaw was mentioned; his eyes drifting up into his head as he wandered off into his memories of the tall man. Damian would admit that he was attractive and definitely Richard’s physical type although Grayson was a terrible judge of character and would look past the worst of traits; Damian remembered how the smell of smoke had congealed with the wet tarmac.

Grayson pulled their bags out from the trunk of the car and placed them next to the staff who was now standing next to a porter with a trolley in tow, Richard had grown too used to having his things carried for him. The bags were loaded up onto the trolley and they then followed the porter, who huffed, as he pushed their bags into the main lobby of the hotel. Damian admired the large print of a car skidding around the corner which hung above the two elevators. 

Father wooed the woman at the desk who flushed furiously as the millionaire playboy and the way his voice felt like silk against her temple. ‘You have three separate rooms on the top floor. Is that okay Mr Wayne?’ She scanned Damian over obviously checking that he was okay to sleep by himself, women were so easily manipulated Damian thought.

‘Please call me Bruce’ Father continued to cause her cheeks to redden, her hands no longer typing but placed in her lap coyly. ‘And of course, that is okay, I would just like to have access to my youngest’s room.’

Damian recoiled, his lips pulled together in a grimace. ‘Father I am old enough to not need your supervision!’ 

‘Damian, It’s for your safety.’ The woman swooned as Bruce ruffled Damian’s midnight hair, Damian groaning as he did, trying to swat his father's large hands away from his head.

Bruce turned back to face the blushing woman, ‘They grow up so fast.’, he looked to Dick who pulled his sunglasses and smiled at the woman, his face just as charming as father’s; Damian was definitely not jealous of how Grayson could please anyone with a simple but perfect smile.

‘I will let Ms Gordon know that you are here. Practice has already started.’ She went to pick up the phone before Grayson interjected.

‘We can go to her, save her having to push all the way over here.’ Grayson had stayed extremely close to Barbara even after he had broken up with her, caring for her had been and still was a huge part of his life; especially after the accident. Damian’s blood ran cold at the thought of it. Guilt held his heart low.

Another man in a smart uniform pushed through the door labelled staff only. He passed father, Grayson and Damian a lanyard with a visitor pass attached to the small metal hook, Damian thumbed at the hook feeling some sort of memory creep into his throat as they entered the staff only corridor. Someone squeezed his arm and Damian snapped forwards to see Grayson smiling at him reassuringly. He understood.

Sound bubbled from a door labelled ‘Garage’ but they were led on, towards the door which read ‘Pits STAFF ONLY’. Opening the door with a beep of his lanyard, the man beckoned Bruce and his sons out onto the tarmac, the noise of cars screeching oh so apparent. Damian coughed at the smell of petrol and took a deep breath, hoping he could suppress the feelings that had become to simmer in his chest.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Dick was apprehensive for sure, he didn’t normally do racing and here he was in the pit lane; the sound of car engines roaring sent shivers down his spine. He felt relief pour over him at the sight of his ex, he loved Barbara with his whole soul he had just not been strong enough for her - it was better like this.

‘Dick!’ She exclaimed as she saw him, pushing towards him with a huge smile on her rosy face. Leaning down to embrace her open arms, he squeezed his eyes shut smelling the honeycomb scent that lingered on her neck and in her orange pulp hair. ‘God I’ve missed you.’ She mouthed into his shoulder and he raised an eyebrow at her as they pulled apart.

‘You are a busy lady these days.’ Dick lifted his sunglasses onto his head, the clouds in the sky hiding the sun he had hoped for.

Barbara scoffed. ‘You have your father to blame for that, running a team is not easy.’

‘And I appreciate your perseverance.’ Bruce hugged her now, Dick remembered telling Bruce of Barbara’s work on car units and he had noticed how Bruce’s eyes lit up in the way they always did when an idea jolted his mind into consciousness.

Barbara grinned at the group, smiling at Damian who offered nothing but a curt nod back towards her. ‘I can’t wait to introduce you to everyone,’ she struggled with her chair, Dick taking the cue to step in behind her and push her forwards in the right direction, as attentive as he had been when they were still together, ‘although, I’m sure Dick already knows everyone here.’

‘Do I even want to ask?’ Bruce shook his head as his eldest laughed slightly.

‘It’s because Grayson is a manwhore.’ Damian hissed behind the group, Barbara laughing loudly in reaction as her breath hiccuped slightly.

Dick feigned shock at the comment from his sweet little D, ‘You wound me Dami.’ Only when Dick turned Babs around stopping the chair just in front of the garage, which was filled with people in black and blue suits rushing around, did he notice the suit she was wearing herself. The words ‘Wayne Enterprises’ traced up each of her arms and as if that wasn't enough the WE logo was printed onto her breast pocket. Dick leaned forwards ever so slightly to observe the way the black almost shimmered in the light, the electric blue fabric contrasting the main body of Nomex.

‘They look sick right?’ Her smile was huge as she awaited Dick’s reaction, his opinion obviously meaning mountains to her.

‘You’ve done such a good job.’ Dick nodded to her, snapped back to the reality of where they were by the sound of an engine and subsequent car getting closer to the pit wall.

A woman in a similar black and blue suit ran past them towards the pit wall and the raised level which a woman hung over her ass planted in the air, that woman being an extremely energetic Kori. The woman with the bouncing bob ran up next to Kori and passed her a checkered flag and as the black sparkling car turned around the corner, Kori threw her hands in the air. Her arms floundered, her fist curled tightly in the fabric as it flickered in the soft wind. ‘Come on Jason!’ She screamed loudly as the car crossed the line, her arm still waving as a second car sped towards the line.

Dick’s eyes followed the first car, his name lighting up his veins along with the smell of burning rubber which was shoved forcefully up his nose. The sound of the other car following in suit brought Dick back to reality, his mind thrumming with something that felt red hot. Looking up to the pit wall he saw Kori smirking down towards him, a deep flush covering her deep-toned cheeks. Passing the flag back to the girl, who Dick now recognised from the gala, Kori rushed down towards him pulling him into a tight hug, her muscled arms squeezing his ribcage.

‘Richard,’ She smiled, now standing beside Babs whose lips were pulled into a gentle almost smile. ‘It’s so good to see you. I didn’t think you would come?’ The tall woman moved back to stand next to Babs, looking down to her with some sort of question falling upon her plump bottom lip. 

Kori had been so different to Babs, passionate, dangerous and powerful; it had been a way to burn out the anger that Bruce had built inside of him through his mishandling of the young boy who hid away from them in the corners of the house. He couldn't distinguish whether he had still been with Babs when they had hotboxed the car, throwing his shirt off as Kori had crawled over him. A decision which still haunted him, Bab’s face was so soft when he had admitted to his sin, each tear which fell to the floor Dick felt within his whole heart and to this day the scars screamed for reconciliation. He had always loved Babs, did he love Kori? Probably not.

Guilt rose in his stomach, bile like, even now he was here for a higher motive. The man in the car was what he wanted, although he did feel a certain emotion with both Kori and Barbara standing in front of him. For a second Dick forgot that this was his father’s visit not his own and he scratched at the back of his neck letting Bruce introduce himself to Kori, who Dick had never introduced him to.

The woman, no girl, looked extremely young and she tapped Bab’s arm signing something quickly, her hands moving in a fluid motion as she side-eyed the other men; her eyes looking ever so skittish. Babs nodded and turned back towards them, her red plait flopping over her shoulder reminding Dick of how he had learned to plait the thick strands, his tongue sticking out as he did. ‘The cars are coming in, so we should move into the garage and then you can meet Jason and Roy!’ Kori walked alongside them as Dick continued to push Barbara, giving her arms a break, her head hanging to the side as she spoke to Bruce about her power units which she had slaved over ever since the breakup. Pride swelled in his chest at her accomplishments.

Approaching the garage, Dick ran his eyes along the line of mechanics, their suits all matching but slightly different to Kori and Bab’s; he guessed they were the inner circle of the team with the angry redhead, who had cockblocked Dick in the conservatory, and Jason in the middle of the blooming team. A couple of heads turned towards the entrance of the pits and Dick felt his pulse quicken, their meeting so destined and as the red string grew shorter Dick felt an inevitability stir in his mind.

The first car came to a rolling stop in a sort of diagonal position, the ‘JT’ on the flank of the vehicle, glimmered maliciously. He seemed to wait for the next car to roll stop as well before pulling himself up through the halo of the car, his thighs swinging over the top of it; straddling it ever so slightly. Dick’s stomach churned at the thought.  
Nomex wrapped Jason’s bod, showing broad shoulders and toned arms which Dick lingered on, swallowing down saliva loudly. Bruce was saying something, his voice a low hum in Dicks ear, he didn’t care if he missed it; words that would have sunk into the back of his head anyway. Blue highlights ran down the side of his black suit, the underneath of his arms a surprising electric which made him look like some sort of flying bat-thing, Dick’s brain was shorting, an effect of his extreme doting. His thighs were covered in black, his shoes sock-like and his expression unreadable; the dark visor covering what Dick understood as his green or blue or grey eyes. 

Jason approached Roy, pulling his comrade out of the car and squeezing his hand, the crease of dark leather a symbol that hung in Dick’s lonesome mind. They pulled each other close, an embrace that wreaked of adrenaline and testosterone, their helmets bumping as they attempted to touch foreheads in a sign of mutual trust and support. This Jason was so different from the man who he had found hidden behind a copy of Austen; soft and placid had been replaced by bold and confident. From personal experience, Dick knew the thrill of injecting oneself with adrenaline, he had friends who were in the industry for this exact reason; Wally for one, Garth for another. Perhaps that adrenaline was worth it, it had resulted in Garth’s win and Wally had become highly successful on the track for his team Central Mechanics but to what extent was it healthy, he didn't know?

But who was he to talk about being healthy, the man who was nearly drooling at the sight of his 19th century forbidden lover. To rub salt into the wound, Jason pulled his helmet off. Sweat stuck to his face, skin glistening as his black hair and white stripe stuck to his face, poking out from beneath a black balaclava. Dick could trace the way his ears fit under the black fabric, his jaw still sharp even when hiding under sweat and cotton. Pulling the balaclava back, Jason revealed his dark hair, slicked back with heat and frazzled at the ends. Roy shook his red mane about as Babs passed him a bottle of water, sucking on the bottle tip as water slipped down his throat. 

Jason stepped onto the scales. which had been placed there earlier, and stretched his arms out watching as the electronic number raced upwards. A lean 210 pounds, Dick noted to himself, negotiating with his arms over whether he would be able to lift the other man up. If the situation arose of course.  
The woman with the dark bob noted the numbers down and moved back towards the garage placing the blue-branded clipboard down on a grime splashed desk. Her hair swayed around her head as she appeared next to Barbara, standing there so quietly her lips sealed like a ziplock. The suit she wore had the letters JT over her left breast, she was Jason’s mechanic. Bab’s read RH, referencing her fellow redhead who was now on the scales weighing a little less than Jason, most likely due to the difference of a couple of inches between them.

‘Practice went well I assume?’ Bruce addressed both of them, his lips curled up as he spoke the words round in his mouth.

‘You wouldn’t expect anything less.’ Jason smiled as he sorted the parting of his hair, his eyes ever so often landing on Dick’s face and the air lit up with heat as they did.

Roy had an arm around Jason’s shoulders and he pulled him flush to his own side. ‘This guy here is astounding.’ He was tripping over his words as he jostled the taller man about. ‘He just,’ Roy’s hands waving frantically in the air, ‘is so fast all the time and it’s so exciting!’

‘It’s nothing.’

‘Well, you looked fast coming around the corner.’ Bruce turned towards Cass who held up a tablet, which she had kept in her hand, and showed Bruce a long list of stats which he most definitely did not understand. Dick nodded his head trying to seem knowledgeable, Damian peered over Cass’s shoulder, his large hazel green eyes wide with interest. 

At some point, Roy began to talk and Dick realised the way Jason had begun to look at him, every other sentence or so his eyes would linger on the v of his shirt, a belt buckle, a loose strand of hair that lay tucked behind his sunglasses. He felt the heat between them, the way it made him tug at his shirt ever so slightly, Jason’s ignoring of him filled his mind with a million questions and doubts, had he fallen for someone who was unavailable. Shaking his fear away he turned to watch Damian, trying to exhibit his cool attitude, he could play hard to get too. 

‘And the suits look great.’ Jason muttered, his voice now a little more contained as he came down from his adrenaline high. 

Dick squeezed Bab’s shoulder and smiled at her, ‘They are so good.’ feeling the way Jason and Roy both stared at them he felt some sort of positive emotion push it’s way past his fear, Jason was confused or jealous. Either way, Dick felt his muscles relax at the idea.

‘The one thing I don’t like is this.’ Jason pulled the top zip of his suit down, Dick blatantly staring as a stretch of the black polo was revealed, and brought his hand to his throat where the words ‘Wayne Enterprises’ stretched across his jugular. He placed a hand just below his Adam's apple almost cupping the words. 

Roy was laughing as he raised an eyebrow. ‘Marking us up so everyone knows who we are.’

Jason zipped his suit back up but popped the collar, taunting Dick with the words that wrapped his gorgeous throat. Dick could get his hand on it, squeeze tight on the airway which breathed beautiful life into Jason’s large lungs and make him surrender to Dick’s endless love. The sounds he would promise to draw from those rosy lips, the smell of smoke hot on his cheek as he pressed further, calling him ‘sweetheart’ as he did. Hands trailing to his navel, slipping below the elastic-

‘Grayson!’, Damian snapped loudly, ‘Are you going to watch the rest of practice?’ They were all staring at him now, Jason’s sharp jaw lifted slightly as he waited for an answer. 

‘No, I will have a walk around. Thanks though.’ He pulled his sunglasses down, the world turning slightly darker as he did, to hide his expression. Dick needed to burn some hormones, one would've thought that at 26 he would be able to look at someone's neck and not pop one out but obviously not. As he walked away from the track back towards the hotel, he heard the roar of an engine starting, Jason’s horns were easy to spot even when removed from the track.

Dick could tell that he was cursed, the JT branded car rejoined the track before coming to life again. Jason was a glowing red ember which pulled Dick in; blanching Dick’s olive skin, fingertips burnt and lips swollen.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Jason’s hands were stiff on the wheel, the micro-adjustments he made every two seconds so important to the steering of his car. Describing the vehicle in his head he thought of the word ‘nippy’, she was fast and eager. If Jason applied any sort of pressure she purred back, lurching forward as the track was swallowed up beneath them.

He felt thankful for the time driving, Dick’s presence had shocked him; he remembered how the older man had criticised the sport in the conservatory, he hadn’t seemed extremely positive about his father's investment. To some extent, Jason’s mind mulled over the idea that Dick was here to see him, his body glistening and perfect as Jason had remembered. He seemed to be stuck on the image of a cold nipple poking out from underneath his shirt, how he had lifted his arms up to reveal a midriff which faded down to a sculpted lower stomach where only a couple of hairs shone through the facade.

The G’s around the corner tapped his temples, the screen set in the centre his wheel reading 3.2 before dropping back down as he hit the apex and sped up as the straight revealed itself. ‘Come on Cariño.’ He urged the car on, moving the wheel to warm the rubber on the tarmac, looking in his mirror he could see Roy’s tires copying him; the two cars swaying across the track in a pendulumic fashion.

Roy raced up so they were now racing parallel to each other, Roy waving to him as he overtook Jason, who had slowed down slightly to approach the next corner. Jason pushed down on the accelerator and slipped the panel on his steering wheel, determined to stay with Roy. Pushing forwards to Roy’s rear wing he let the engine roar in want for the win. 

As they jostled around the corner Jason continued to run wide, edging around Roy’s car which was hugging the inside bend. Feeling the moment hit him Jason accelerated, ‘Jason, slow down, it’s not safe to accelerate here.’ Cass’s voice was firm in his ear.

‘Don’t worry.’ He smiled as he continued with his plan, the moment feeling right in his chest.

‘Jason.’ Her voice was a little softer now but it had no effect as he moved closer to Roy’s side, completely parallel to him now. The engine roared, as Jason felt the car move past Roy’s before he heard a slight noise; the car jolted backwards as if he was caught on something. The steering wheel juddered and he felt his breath coming quickly now, an old worry rising in his mind. In the mirror, he saw Roy’s car somehow caught on a loose wheel axle or was it a puncture; either way, it was bad news for the both of them. Jason’s arms locked in place as he tried to hold the car straight, the wheel beginning to jolt around in a sporadic manner.

As they spun out of control, the gravel spraying up at them, all he could feel was excitement. He wasn’t afraid to die. The car’s spinning was unrelenting, both the drivers bracing back against the seats as they awaited the impact of the barrier.

~~~~~~~~~~~

‘Roy? Can you hear me?’ The voice was shrill as he opened his eyes, relieved to realise that the crash hadn’t been that bad. He would walk away for sure with no damage but he did feel something burning in his mind. Ahead of him Jason Todd, pulled his helmet off, his back bent over as he caught his breath. The car behind him was dented up, the rear spoiler nearly hanging off, but it seemed like it could be fixed in a day or two. 

‘I’m fine.’ He replied, swallowing loudly before pulling himself out of the car. Jason turned to look at him with a slight squint, he looked like he was grinning underneath his horned helmet, Roy felt anger colouring his cheeks.

He walked over to him, the gravel scratching under his feet, ‘What the fuck do you think you're doing?’ 

Jason recoiled in shock at Roy’s words, throwing his helmet off revealing his confused expression, ‘I was doing my job. This is a race you know?’

‘This is practice’, he looked bewildered, ‘You don’t need to knock both of us out on a fucking practice run?’ Hearing a recovery car approaching, Roy shook his head at Jason. ‘It’s not all about you being the best. I understand I’m number two but surely I can go ahead of you for a couple of seconds on a fucking practice lap!’

Roy watched understanding wash over Jason’s face and he smiled at his friend. ‘M’ sorry.’ Jason held out his hand to Roy, some sort of olive branch which Roy accepted, pulling Jason into a tight embrace. 

‘It’s fine.’ Roy shook it off, reminded of the fact that Jason was only 23, still a young man. ‘You’re gonna get enough shit from Babs.’

Jason held his head in his hands. ‘God, I’m stupid. I really did this in front of Bruce.’

Roy nodded and sighed. ‘Yep.’ Hopefully Bruce would be forgiving of Jason’s overblown racing ego.

~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been about an hour before Dick had summoned up the courage to return to the track, the sound of the cars mysteriously absent. Moving now with curiosity, he followed the sound of a high beeping and felt his heart sink at the sight of a mangled car lifted in the air by a tow lift. The JT now augmented as the metal bent around the initials, he felt his chest tighten and he turned away from the floating car, his feet carrying him back into the hotel lobby. Bruce looked up to him and cocked his head at Dick’s worried expression.

‘You okay son?’ The group was turned to him, Kori, Barbara, the bobbed girl, a new blonde girl, Bruce and a distressed looking Damian. Dick gestured around behind him to where the track was, his words coming fast scrambled, ‘The car- there was a crash?’ 

Bruce nodded, ‘Yes, Jason caught the front of Roy’s car and they both spun out of control.’

Dick felt his heart racing and he squeezed his thumb which was curled into a fist, his eyes searching the rest of the team for any further reassurance.

‘No one is hurt.’ Bab’s smiled knowing the deep well from which his nerves had sprung. 

Kori was pulling her hair back into a slick ponytail. ‘We thought it was best to call it off for the day.’ Dick had only now noticed Damian’s puffy eyes which he kept rubbing at and guilt rose in his throat. What had happened and why hadn’t he been there, it was very rare that Damian ever cried. 

Dick realised his selfishness, he wasn’t the only one who had been hurt by racing before, his baby brother had cried and Dick had spent the time thinking completely of himself. 

He was being swallowed up by the present moment, cars screaming, adrenaline pumping, Jason breathing and oh so alive. Pulling himself out of that pit, he nodded to the rest of them who continued to talk about taking a break and then dinner in the evening. As the group dispersed away to their rooms, Dick ruffled Damian’s hair, who with a sniff batted away his large but delicate hands. 

‘Wanna play Mario Kart.’

‘You are awful at Mario Kart Grayson. Damian sniffed, wiping his nose, his face pale contradicting the normal sandy undertones of his skin.

‘Exactly!’ Dick grinned as the door to the elevator closed, taking them up to the top floor and Damian’s room.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Jason pulled his leather jacket over his shoulders and watched Roy pull his hair into a top knot. They walked in silence, Jason’s pack of cigs digging into the back of his thigh, Roy clicking the button for the lift and relaxing when the ding sounded. ‘Don’t flirt with Dick too much please.’ Roy teased Jason as they began to sink down to the bottom floor, their reflections smiling back at the pair of them.

Jason pulled his jeans up slightly, tightening the belt on his slim hips, ‘ I didn’t flirt with him at all today.’ To which Roy scoffed, a loud noise which showed his disbelief.

‘You were basically undressing him.’ Their feet clicked on the lobby floor as they made their way to the restaurant, a casual twenty minutes late. ‘Don’t try to play me. I’ve had a kid.’

‘And-’

‘I know what someone who wants sex looks like.’ Pushing at one of Jason’s large shoulders, he grinned knowing how to wind his teammate up. For a second Jason looked into Roy’s face and remembered the anger he had spat at him as they stood on the gravel trap. Guilt swallowed his body, a reminder of his total selfishness which he had shown, not everything was about him. This was a side of his racing personality which he had forgotten existed, he remembered how he had treated Gar even though he had been a nice person. Promising himself he wouldn’t treat Roy the same way he previously had, he smiled at his friend feeling the bond between them beginning to strengthen once more.

The table was set in a separate room before, more private because Bruce and his sons were here, well decorated with a sort of orange light filling the room. Conversation was bubbling up from the table and it stalled slightly as the pair walked in. Jason pulled his jacket off showing his fairly smart shirt and his black belted jeans. Mirroring Jason, Roy’s shirt was crumpled and unbuttoned, untucked at the front and pulled tightly at the back; his muscles ghosted the shirt. 

Jason slid next to Cass and smiled at her, smoky liner widening her eyes. She was cuddled up to Steph, obviously finding some comfort in the way Steph’s thumb lazily circled her palm. Jason’s heart tugged at their romance, which was gorgeous and languid full of a passion that he knew lay inside him somewhere. 

‘I ordered you a cider.’ Kori remarked softly. She was wearing a silk satin purple dress which rolled over her curves, complimenting her tall and fluid figure. Her long dark hair was platted in a fishtail, heels fitted her narrow feet and a gold necklace hung around her neck decadently. 

Jason grinned at her, ‘Alcohol? Mom, you shouldn’t have.’, referencing the fact he had not been allowed to drink throughout the week. 

‘Do not call me mom.’ She shook her head at him as she ran a hand through her dark hair. 

Roy looked to the rest of the table before leaning back into his seat. ‘Okay, Mom.’ They all erupted into laughter, Jason and Roy fist-bumping each other underneath the table; their friendship completely restored in their joint teasing of another. Soon after that their ciders arrived, Jason holding the tip of the bottle to his lips.

Dick was holding a glass of wine, sharing a bottle of white with Barbara who Jason had noticed looked at the older man with a twinkle in her eye. Some sort of feeling began to push at his stomach, maybe Dick was not here to see him.

‘So’, Roy placed his bottle back down, looking across to Wayne who sat opposite him, ‘what did you think? Apart from the crash of course.’ His charm rolled across the table.

Bruce gave him that look, aware of the rest of the team who were patiently awaiting his opinion. ‘I think it was great. Even the crash shows you boys can get over stuff really quickly which is good.’ 

Jason smiled at the comment, it was nice to not be reprimanded for every single mistake that happened; although it could be argued that the crash had not been a mistake but a motivated incident. Yeah, that’s what Jason would call it.

The staff appeared at the door to the room before Jason could say anything about the crash himself. Plates of what Jason would describe as fancy leaves were placed in front of each person and they began to tuck in, Damian looking especially hungry as he pushed the fancy leaves into his round mouth.

Dick was staring at Jason, he could tell and Jason pushed the salad around his plate feeling embarrassment almost flood his face and hands.

‘Here’s a funny story.’ Kori put her fork down as she swallowed her food. ‘Dick, Babs and I all dated!’ Bruce let out a huff and Dick choked loudly on whatever he was eating.   
Babs flushed and took a sip from her glass of wine as Jason stared, trying to stop his jaw from hanging to the floor in shock.

The person who they had both dated was Dick and here he was thinking Dick wanted him. ‘Grayson is just a bit of a whore really.’ Damian said shortly, placing his cutlery in a neat manner. The table turned to the 14-year-old as Dick’s cheeks turned a colour even redder than the devil himself, embarrassment engulfing him on site. Jason felt stupid as the staff took the food away, staring at Dick in a way that perhaps did convey his betrayal. 

‘It sounds really bad.’ Dick chewed at his cheek.

‘Sure does.’ Roy grinned as he finished his cider, Jason watched the way his eyes flickered with interest at the past being revealed. 

Barbara had seemed to have overcome her flush as she smiled at both Kori and Dick, ‘It was a while ago and Kori is right, it makes for good conversation.’

Damian visibly rolled his eyes at the conversion and cursed the awkward silence out. ‘Tozz Feek.’ His voice was firm as he angrily stared at Grayson for being such an embarrassment to all of them. 

On hearing what Damian had said Jason snapped his head around to look at him. ‘I didn’t know you spoke Arabic Damian?’

‘It is my mother tongue, my mother taught me how to speak English at four.’ More food was placed in front of them, this time meat of some sort which had been placed on a mountain of rice.

Jason smiled at the younger man, the group going silent as they ate and listened to their conversation. ‘I learnt Arabic a coupla years back.’, he turned to the table, ‘There was this lady who did sex work in the apartment above me and she could not speak a word of English.’ He happily spooned some rice into his mouth, not noticing the way the team were staring at him, including Roy. ‘So- I wrote down her checks and schedules and requests. She was really nice.’ Jason trailed off at the memory of the woman who had made him traditional rice bake every Friday. He continued babbling on lost in a happy memory from his past, ‘So now I know how to say “John wants a blowjob at 6pm” in Arabic.’ 

Babs burst out laughing, joined by Cass who held her hand over her mouth in shock at what Jason had just come out with in front of their sponsor. Damian’s eyes were blown wide with confusion, Bruce let out a chuckle which sounded extremely genuine as Jason continued to munch on his food inconspicuously.

‘The more you know.’ Roy shrugged to Jason who nodded in return. 

From there the evening sped on, laughter and conversation springing up every so often, Dick’s eyes on Jason’s lips a constant as the hours ticked by. At some point Jason pulled out his packet of smokes, pulling one out of the box and holding it in his palm. ‘Anyone wanna have a fag with me.’ He asked bluntly, feeling his pockets for his lighter.

Roy frowned at him. ‘No.’

‘What? This is my first one today.’

‘You literally had two on the balcony about three hours ago.’

‘Okay, you got me.’

‘I will.’ Dick said softly, standing up from his seat at the table. Babs looked confused and watched in earnest as the pair walked away towards the outside of the restaurant.

‘Since when did Dick smoke?’ She asked, adjusting her glasses on her face.

Damian looked at her with a grin. ‘He doesn’t.’

~~~~~~~~~~~

It was cold outside, Jason flicking the lighter at the end of his cigarette which hung out of his mouth. Dick wrapped his arms around himself, pulling his blazer jacket together to conserve heat. Watching him from the corner of his eye, Jason didn’t know how to feel about him; the tension between them thick and tempered.

‘It’s cold huh-’ Dick smiled at Jason who was now inhaling smoke deep into his lungs.

‘Wadda you want with me?’ Jason turned to him, blowing a puff of smoke into the cold air, his lips rosy and red as they wrapped around the end of the cigarette.

Dick raised his eyebrows, now he was sitting on the bench Jason was relaxing into, ‘I think you know what I want.’ Jason now staring at him, his jaw sharp and his skin dewy under the light of a fake street lamp. 

‘Ask me then.’ Jason whispered, feeling something pull at his stomach, Dick’s eyes were dark as they had been in the conservatory. Jason could surrender himself now or fight the feeling but something in his mind wanted to let Dick keep his hand there on his thigh...when had he done that?

Dick laughed softly at Jason’s words, watching as the embers lit up at the end of Jason’s smokey breath. ‘Will you go on a date with me?’

The moonlight shimmered in Jason’s pupils and Dick felt hope rising in him, the man looked so profound with the cloud of grey as his backdrop.

‘No.’

Dick’s heart shattered into a million pieces, Jason stunk of smoke as he took another breath, Dick’s large palm still placed on his thigh as the cold began to set in. ‘Why not?’ His voice sounded sad.

‘Because dating me is bad.’

‘Surely that is my choice, not yours.’

‘Nope. You would hate dating me.’ Jason rolled his eyes at Dick, his cheekbones oh so apparent and his plump lips still curved around the end of the cigarette. Making him dream of something that Dick should not think of right now. ‘I travel all the time and I race all the time. Correct me if I'm wrong but you hate racing.’

Dick scowled at how unfair Jason was being as he toyed with Dick’s passionate heart. ‘I could get over it?’

Jason scoffed loudly as he scrubbed the nub of the cigarette into the bench. ‘Yeah, good luck.’

‘Will you at least think about it? I want you.’ Dick’s voice was low causing Jason to smile at the other man, something burning in his pupils.

‘Open.’ He instructed as he placed a cigarette into Dick’s now open mouth, holding it in place with a thumb and finger on Dick’s lips. He lit the cigarette before instructing him once more. ‘Inhale.’ Dick did and he began to cough at the smoke in his throat, pulling it from Dick’s mouth Jason placed it back into his own. ‘I will think about it.’ 

‘Really?’

‘If you want?’

Dick placed a kiss to Jason’s open palm, his eyes holding Jason’s green steel ones as he did. Jason felt something in his throat as he continued to puff out more smoke, Dick’s lips were so soft on his skin and his pulse began to quicken, the artificial light a perfect scene-setter for their romance which was so contradictory yet so inevitable.

‘No promises though.’ Jason told Dick as he pulled away and the older man couldn’t suppress the look of joy on his face.

‘Don’t worry, I can wait, I'm very persistent.’ 

As the night grew on Jason felt that a resolution to his issues had come. His feelings were requited, making his head and heart soar even higher than he had done whilst racing, a high he knew he would become addicted to. Surrounded by friends he felt secure and ready for the season ahead and maybe, just maybe, he could try and be normal with Dick, normality being something that he craved in his extremely fanatic life. Victory came in many different forms.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Jason threw his bag into the back of Roy’s car, the clouds threatening rain. As he went to sit in the passenger seat he felt a hand on the small of his back, turning to see Dick smiling at him softly.

‘I meant to give this to you last night’, he took a breath, ‘but I forgot to bring it down to the table.’

Jason cocked his head at the cloth-covered box-like shape which was placed into his open hands, welcoming the gesture. Pulling the cloth away from the item, he took a sudden breath in at the feeling of pages on his thumb. Jason looked up to see Dick was now walking away and he felt some sort of happiness flood his cheeks. 

Tracing over the words he grinned to himself. 

‘Emma by Jane Austen.’ Just below that in cursive chicken scratch, it read. ‘Think about it.’ Dick’s number sprawled across the bottom of the page.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Kudos and comments appreciated :)
> 
> Stay safe and wear a mask <3


	10. Fate and choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Testing week begins, heat flashing the eyes of all who watch with shaking anticipation. And at the centre, Jason's mind was scattered across a hundred different places. The image of the billionaire's son, the kid in the car and Roy Harper, his closest friend, played on his mind like a sounding instrument and Jason felt a certain urge to fulfil what he must. Be the fastest. Be the best. Prove them wrong.

Jason’s feet tapped on the polished floor, his suitcase rolled behind him, the clips around it pulling the fabric tight. Standing in the arrivals hall he looked at his phone, he had decided to take a later flight to Ali Cante than the rest of them. Gotham weather being much less reliable than that of Star and Central. Sweet Stephanie had organised with other team managers across the states, and one team from Mexico, a lift share to the Circuito Cartagena where testing was being held for the year. And of course, Jason had to hold them up in dramatic style, his eyes drooping with tiredness, it only being about 5 am in the morning. He hated early mornings.

A man wearing dark sunglasses and a smart blazer caught Jason’s eyes’ his hands holding a sign which read ‘WE racing.’; the driver having been told to be discreet as possible to avoid press following them. Jason nodded to the man, following him out into the warm air of a Spanish summer morning, the landscape a red terracotta. The bus was obvious from where he stood, the tinted windows almost begging people to wonder who sat inside.

Jason knew as he threw his bag into the back of the bus he heard the chatter, a couple of people he knew from earlier seasons, a couple of people he had searched up online. As he jumped through the door he heard a cheer erupt from the guys who had been waiting, Roy sat in the back throwing his arms in the air the most enthusiastically. ‘You had to get the latest flight possible, didn’t you?’

Jason shook his head at Roy, aware of everyone now watching him. ‘Fuck off Harper.’ A smile gripped his lips as he moved to sit in an empty seat behind Kaldur. Looking around him as he settled back into the seat, he recognised many of the faces that were looking to him. Both members of Central mechanics; Wally West and Victor Stone, the Saagar duo consisting of four-time world champion Garth Raanz and one-time world champion Kaldur Annte and two who Jason had never met before. Curled up in the back of the seat, the kid had wild red hair; similar to Wally and Roy’s but more stuck up in the air. His head was leant to the side, his eyes half-closed as his tongue lolled to the side slightly; sleep having overcome him.

Opposite him a man with deep brown hair sat, the yellow of his shirt matching that of the sleeping redhead. ‘Jaime.’ He nodded to Jason, Jason noticed a slight accent on his voice; Destello being the team of Mexico. 

Jason smiled at the guys around him, the engine of the car now humming as they pulled away from the airport. ‘Sorry for making you wait.’ His voice was soft as he stretched his back out, shaking the jetlag off of him.

Wally West turned to him with a grin, ‘Sorry?’, cocking his head, ‘Did the boy wonder just apologise?’ Garth and Victor laughed, Kaldur humming softly at the comment. All four of them having had to deal with Jason as a rival before, on the track he had been horrendous. 

Jason felt shame in his cheeks and tried to take their laughter as an endearment, he had looked up to them for his own career, desperate to impress the men who he saw on the tv as a boy. See he had been so different to them. They had all karted together as young kids, rising up the ranks from F4 to F2; their father’s wallets fueling each session of kid racing. In the end, they had been picked by different teams; Garth and Kaldur forming a strong bond for Saagar, Wally and Victor joining Central Mechanics.

Perhaps it was because of the words Roman had whispered into his ear when Jason had stepped onto the paddock he had felt like he was shit beneath their feet. The kid who had only been karting for a year had been chosen by Sionis, how? They were jealous of him, at least that's what he thought, they wanted his success and he wouldn’t let them take it from him. Guarding his fame with bared teeth he hated them, stuck up pricks who had been given everything in their lives. Jason had fought tooth and nail for every fucking thing he had, life was so unfair.

In reality, the foursome had enjoyed sharing their space with Jason because simply Jason was exciting. He  _ was  _ different and the foursome  _ were _ jealous of his talent but that was why they liked him, Wally was particularly jealous of Jason’s shoulder-length hair which was so bouncy and radiant. A shame he had now cut it shorter. 

As Jason began to itch at the back of his head in embarrassment, Garth felt warmth spread over his chest. Maybe this season he could properly get to know Jason, he felt their friendship being planted in his soul. 

‘I’ve changed y’know. I’m not a dick anymore.’ Jason felt them watching him and he turned to Roy for support, his mind screaming ‘Please! Tell them I’m an okay person.’

‘You're not awful.’ Roy teased him, picking at Jason’s insecurities. He turned to face the others, Bart now rubbing his eyes awake as they hit the main road. ‘He did crash into me at practice.’

‘By accident!’ Jason exclaimed waving his hands at Roy, their friendship obvious in the way that Roy’s pupils were blown wide in admiration.

Victor rolled his eyes. ‘I cannot even count the amount of time Wally has crashed into the back of me, most of them on purpose as well.’

‘It’s our job as teammates, right Jason?’ Wally’s green eyes glimmered juxtaposing his scarlet hair, more similar in character to Bart’s than to Roy’s. His teammate shook his head at Wally, his dark hair coiling tight on the top of his head. 

Jason smiled at Victor. ‘Sure.’ The cars on the road moved around the bus as it cruised in the slow lane. ‘Don’t worry I’m not gonna be crashing into the back of you this season. Cars too fast for that.’ His hoodie proudly presenting ‘Wayne Enterprises’ across his broad chest, matching Roy’s black and blue cap which was also branded with Wayne Enterprises.

Garth raised an eyebrow at Jason at the others around them ‘oohed’ and ‘aahed’. ‘I think a big threat this year will be green and red.’ referring to the driver's nicknames for Metropolis Power and Janus Tech, the two teams being the most funded out of all nine. 

‘The cars are reliable but the drivers this season are a mystery.’ Kaldur spoke calmly, a sort of wisdom surrounded him.

‘Have you met them yet?’ 

Jason shook his head. ‘I saw a picture of the Metro team and it’s a kid fucking driving the number one car.’ Jason sipped some water from his bottle. ‘He looks scary as shit.’

Wally nodded, leaning forwards towards the aisle of the bus. ‘How old?’

‘19.’ 

‘Fuck.’ Garth’s eyes were opened wide as he looked around to the other guys.

Jason brushed his hair back, feeling heat in his stomach, '19-year-olds in cars never do well. I would know.’ There was a pause which Jason felt awkward for creating.

Roy saved him. ‘And the other guy, he’s good, I’ve seen him kart before.’

Jaime, his tan cheekbones high on his face, spoke up. ‘Jason, you drove for Janus, do you know who’s driving for them?’ Jason realised that Jaime had researched or watched him and he recognised the hunger in his hazel eyes.

‘Roman and I cut ties so I have no idea.’ Looking out the window at the sunrise, he smiled at the perfect scene as the bus turned away following signs to the Circuito Cartagena. The conversation seemed to calm down and Jason pulled his legs up to his chest, feeling the jet lag set in, his hair hanging backwards when he tilted his head back against the seat.

The mustard yellow of Garth’s polo was jarring to Jason’s tired eyes and he smiled to Garth who was now looking in his direction. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t-’

‘Don’t.’ Jason shook his head at Garth, not needing to hear the full sentence to understand where it was going. An apology meant nothing now if anything it only unpicked the stitches which covered the festering gash Roman had left on him.

‘New season, new me.’ Jason grinned to Garth, watching as Garth flicked his eyes over him, his dark hair pulled into a loose bun. Jason had liked Garth the most and now he still felt a bit in awe when the four-time world champion smiled at him.

As the landscape around them flattened out, Jason spotted a lot filled with large trucks, blue-black, silver-black, mustard yellow, red, emerald green, yellow-red, turquoise and the true blue which represented Rushford. The circuit was more of a ‘drive round in circles’ track than a ‘turns and twists’ track, it didn’t bother him too much anyway. 

Today was the official kick-off of the season where all teams tested their new cars, tactical intimidation of the other teams was a critical part of the testing day. Although, most of the testing was just sitting around because each team was only allowed to run one car. Testing explained why everyone was branded up as they were, and the reason why they had arrived so early in the morning because the circuit would be filled with cameras and microphones, journalists and commentators. 

Jason mulled over his many awful interactions with the press and shuddered at the memories. He knew that due to the fact he was returning from his near-fatal crash the press would want his take on the team, Roman, the crash, the race, the car, Roman, his mates, his accident, Roman, Roman, Roman. In the end, it all went back to that scarred up face. One he would be forced to look at over the next couple of days. 

As the bus stopped they all gathered their things, Jason pulling out a matching hat to Roy’s and pushing his hair down with it; the flat cap sticking out. Jason was thankful for the short sleeves of his black polo when he stepped off the bus, the heat from the clear sky rippling on his skin. Roy threw him his bag, walking by his side towards the grandstand which was decked out with flags and banners, images of unbranded cars racing next to each other soon would be updated to show rival team colours. The paddock had been left open to them and Jason looked behind him to see that the three pairs were walking in a similar style, Jaime’s careful eyes watching over Bart’s erratic form, who Jason could see was taking pictures of the track ahead of him. 

He ran forward to Jason and tapped his arm, his orange hair hedgehog-like under a yellow and red cap. ‘Hey, mister have you raced here before?’ Bart weaved around in front of the pair, trying to separate them so he could capture Jason’s attention. ‘I’ve never raced here before, have you?’ He repeated. 

‘No.’

‘Really? I thought you would have considering you are such a legend on the tarmac and you know I really looked up to you when you raced for Janus and like cos of that I’ve always wanted to race for Janus but honestly, they are a bit suspicious also Roman Sionis scares me. Do you know how he got those scars, I don’t? I wonder if he was in a crash like you? Did it hurt when you crashed? Did the car set on fire? Once when I crashed the car set on fire and it felt so warm and honestly I thought I was gonna die. Did you think you were going to die? But I never thought I was gonna even be in F1 and then Destello picked me and now I do consider what would happen if I died because you know I have nothing else in my life other than racing.’ He took a large inhale. ‘Y’know?’

Jason and Roy looked at each other before looking back to Bart. ‘Um yes, I think?’ Bart’s eyes were sparkling with awe in response to Jason’s answer. 

Wally pulled Bart back by his red collar, his thumbs spread over the D and E of Destello. ‘Slow down there little guy.’ Bart was batting at Wally’s big hands, Bart being extremely small for 19 just turning 20 at Christmas. ‘You will scare Jason away from the sport again.’

‘He will crash on purpose this time.’ Victor pushed at Roy’s shoulder, the group laughing at Bart’s endless fanboying.

Roy grinned, adjusting his hat as they walked through the paddock towards the pit lane, where the sound of engineers rushing about simmered in the air. ‘Who said it was an accident? He may have done it to escape Sionis.’

‘My six broken ribs, fucking sliced up thighs and state of coma for weeks all say it was an accident!’ Jason exclaimed at the rest of the men who continued to laugh loudly, announcing their arrival to the pits. 

Garth whistled to himself at the site of Kori clad in Nomex, her hair pulled up into a tight bun on the top of her head which puffed out in a fiery flower-like shape. Her green eyes were sparkling with concentration as she chewed on a pen, clipboard in hand. Behind her, Cass struggled with the garage door pulling it up with a jump and squat. 

‘All-female team? Nice dude.’ Wally grinned at Jason and Roy, Jason feeling tightness in his chest at the comment; the way Wally’s lips smirked made his stomach churn.

Victor grabbed the redhead by his silver hat, catching a few strands in the process. ‘Don’t be a creep Wall.’ 

Stephanie interrupted the slight awkwardness as she strolled forwards, a similar clipboard in hand. She was wearing the same suit as Kori, flattering the curve of her hips, a bag was slung over her shoulder; probably for her phone and pens and badges of all sorts. ‘Good morning boys.’ She pulled a pink biro from out of her satchel, popping the lid off of it before scribbling names down onto her board. ‘Okay, Central Mech garage one all the way down there.’ She gestured towards the bottoms of the pits. ‘Saagar,’, she scanned the page before scribbling two names down, ‘garage four.’ She looked up to Jaime and Bart who was waiting patiently, Bart almost bouncing up and down. ‘Welcome rookies, Destello, garage seven on the right.’ 

The group moved apart, Bart running past garage six at breakneck speed. ‘That kid is crazy.’ Roy smiled as they watched him run away. ‘Crazy to think he’s Wally’s cousin.’ 

‘Really?’ 

‘He’s the next big thing.’ Steph butted in on them. ‘You guys are gonna have to watch out for him.’, she ran a hand through her loose blonde hair, ‘Let's just focus on us right now.’ She led them to the front of the garage which Cass had now pulled back, revealing a festering pit of mechanics and engineers kitted out in all matching suits, only ever so slightly different to Kori, Cass and Steph. 

The garage felt strangely empty with no car sitting in the middle, split through the middle to allow room for two separate sub-teams; Jason and Roy. Waving in a circular motion, Jason grabbed Cass’s attention, happy to see her once more. He noticed the skull and bone clip stuck in her hair, her skin flush with what looked like a slight pink blush, most likely Stephanie's choice. He watched as she booted a computer system up, lights flashing as the system kicked in. She ticked off another box on her checklist moving over to check through a pile of tyres, marked yellow, red and white.

A hand snaked around his waist, Kori slipping between the both of them as she stole Roy’s cap off of his head. Placing the cap on top of her bun, she stuck her tongue out at Roy before moving away her hips swinging rhythmically. Jason would describe Roy as possibly drooling, having to hold his jaw up to prevent it from dropping to the floor. 

‘And you say  _ I’m  _ the one not able to keep it in my pants.’

‘Shut up, I have a kid.’

‘That means nothing dickface.’ 

‘Shut up.’

They stood in silence, their arms crossed defiantly.

‘You won’t say anything to her?’ Roy’s head snapped to look at Jason, his eyes wide and pleading.

Jason squeezed Roy’s shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t.’ The sound of discussion began to flood the pits, the drivers needed to both stay in their casual kit for the moment as the actual driving would not begin until about 11 am with only one car at a time for each team.

Basically, testing was sitting around and posing for cameras, two things that came east to Jason.

Willing himself to investigate their garage neighbours, Jason stepped away from Roy, his feet connecting with the burnt and eroded tarmac of the pit. On their left was Rushford, a deep ocean blue colour, the team from the Uk would not be a huge threat but one to watch in the next couple of seasons. In complete contrast were Metropolis power, emerald green envious as Jason saw for the first time Tim Drake, who was huddled into a corner reading stats off a sheet of crisp white paper. 

Jason turned back to his own garage, the excitement of the beginning of season gnawing knots into his stomach. His interactions with Garth. Wally, Katsura and Victor had reminded him of the development he had endured from his first season till now. Jason felt their eyes on him, they expected lots and to be fair he was the number one driver. He had to deliver wins. Jason knew that it would be crucial to distinguish himself as different from the asshole who had bore his name years ago, showing Bruce that he was thankful.

He hadn’t texted Dick yet.

Some sort of insecurity hung on his bottom lip; if he couldn’t supply the team what they needed then they would go down the drain. Winners of F1 got given large percentages of the golden money pot, Barbara needed that fat sum in order to produce the power unit for the team. 

He could be the most talented driver ever but Metropolis Power would always drive faster.

Where was Barabara? A memory pinged clear in his mind, she would arrive later as her chair would be difficult to move in huge crowds. To some extent, Jason missed the calm wave she possessed, which washed every colour from his cheek and drained him of that overzealous passion which led him down the path of failure.

His mind milled over Barbara’s green eyes, they had looked so longing as they watched Dick’s face. Dick’s jaw perfectly tilted as he lifted a crystal glass to his lips, the billionaire lifestyle suited him tight around his jugular as he swallowed deeply. Jason’s phone felt hot in his breast pocket, a million possibilities opening up in his mind; paths shimmering under a full moon.

~~~~~~~~~~~

**Racing 101: Roy Harper**

**On Monday morning we interviewed Outlaw Power racer Roy Harper who will be competing for the F1 championship cup alongside the rest of the paddock this year. Harper, who is well known for his nickname ‘the ginger badger’ - yes, weird - is one of two new racers for Outlaw who will be vying to redeem themselves this season.**

Racing Weekly: So would you like to introduce yourself?

Roy Harper: Hi, my name is Roy Harper and I will be racing for Outlaw Power, Wayne Enterprises.

RW: So Roy can you tell our readers a bit about yourself?

RH: Of course, I am the best racer this season... nah I’m kidding. Honestly, I would say I am good but I know there are so many talented guys this year and I just feel blessed to be on the track, burning rubber, with them. I can’t wait for everyone to see how well the team is gonna be and the car looks sick so the aesthetic is just perfect y’know?

RW: Ahah the team does look really promising and correct me if I’m wrong but Outlaw Sport has developed their own power unit, which is really rare!

RH: Yes, it's all because of our fantastic team director Barbara Gordon who is like crazy smart, like I am stupid and her level of smartness just amazes me. I am also lucky enough to have Barbara feeding me comms this year which is great cos she has the calming aura which is what you really need when you are doing something as dangerous and terrifying as racing. I can’t tell you that much about the engine itself because firstly, confidentiality and secondly, I don’t understand how that works anyway so my answer will not be great.

RW: Don’t worry I have no clue how it works either. Do you mind just telling us a bit about your start in the motorsports industry and how you came to be a part of Outlaw Sports?

RH: Of course, um my relationship with racing has been extremely complicated for the entirety of my adolescence and young adulthood. I was lucky enough to go to a good school because my father had a lot of money, you’ve probably heard of him, Oliver Queen. However, I never really got on with school and learning, it just felt like it bounced around my brain pretty aimlessly. In order to put me on more of a track, Oli introduced me to Karting and it did change my life for sure. I carted for two years before I got picked up by the old version of Rushford and was given the chance to race in F1. From that moment on I knew that I had to keep racing but sadly, and foolishly, I fell into the party scene and subsequently did **** in the season. I got dropped and went to rehab. I never planned to come back, I have a kid and have been raising her for the past years, but Callum, our startup, approached me and somehow convinced me to join and here I am.

RW: It's great how open you are about the issues in the sport because a lot of people don’t like to mention them!

RH: Yeah, a lot of people definitely wanted to distance themselves from me although I knew they were taking the same **** as I was. But hey whatever I can do to raise awareness helps.

RW: You have used your platform before to- oops looks like you're being called for a testing run! Thanks so much for this first interview anyway and I hope we can talk again soon.

RH: Definitely 

**Racing weekly, Ali Cante, Spain, September 10th 2017, Pre-season testing.**

Fastboyghj10: Wow racers take drugs, what a revelation!!!!!

Garthsimp: He seems really nice and kind. Outlaw are going to be great this season especially with Jason Todd returning.

Mommyof2: Great to have a man speaking about his feelings for once. <3

Garthsimp: Also ginger badger? WTF!

~~~~~~~~~~~

Roy was first out of the pair to race, pulling his suit trousers up over his ass and zipping it up to his collar. Jason and he had watched the first five teams send their first car around the track. 

Central were all over the place, obviously, Wally was in the driving seat this round. Jason felt the speed of the car though, it slid around the corners fairly slowly but as the bend opened itself up the car began to pick up speed at an alarming rate. He wouldn’t want to have them up his exhaust.

Seeing the red car race around the circuit in person left a small dent in Jason’s heart. He felt a fondness at Garfield’s steady steering, not pushing the car too hard. Everyone knew what the team could do, he didn’t have to prove anything too momentous. Jason could imagine the smile on his face when he crossed the line, how his dyed green hair bled brown at his roots. 

The pale blue car weaved through the chicane after turn nine, the words in Arabic were emphasised as the car raced past the pits. The steady motion of the tuning had an elusive sense, the car somehow able to speed up out of nowhere. Brion sat watching, his chocolate hair falling in front of a pair of arrogant eyes, daddy’s money lifted him up to F1. And yet the presence of Zachary Zatara did feel royal, his slip of hand as smooth as the way he rolled to a stop in front of the garage. His dark bangs were slicked back and the press which had gathered so far ate his looks up, the Arabic across his suit just as sublime as he acted.

Saagar had shown usual composure although the chassis seemed to be dragging a bit more than usual, mechanics reading numbers off a sheet as they sweated in the mid-morning Spanish heat. Still, Garth managed to set the fastest time, not to anyone’s surprise, practice makes perfect. Jason smiled to himself at the sound of engines screaming, it felt good to be back. Garth crossed over the line as the fastest so far, returning to his team with a hearty cheer.

That meant the next team to show off was the beloved ‘Metropolis Power’, the press circulating around the garage as the new emerald green car was rolled out with a small but noticeable driver sitting in the cockpit. Jason squinted to read the words on the back of Tim's helmet, ‘Luthor 2017’, he was slouched against the garage. Jason was the second driver to be racing, ‘to give everyone a bit of a shock’ as Barbara had announced when she arrived an hour before this. Kori dropped a box of pizza at his feet and smiled, ‘Enjoy it before I make you go back to your diet.’

He watched the car mechanically approach the corner, it seemed as if the driver was calculating the apex to turn on. Looking to his left he saw the rest of the drivers staring to the screen as well, a chill passed through all of them as Sector 1 lit up green. The kid had gained a second on Garth Ranzz, one sector in as well. Roy was suiting up, his eyes flicking up to the screen every so often. Babs squeezed his side, calming some wild nerve in his soul. ‘We don’t need to break records, this is for our personal team development.’

Roy nodded, jumping into the car and throwing his cap out into the garage. He pulled his helmet on and let some young kid strap him into the cockpit. 

The emerald car was still going but losing speed for some reason, the approach to each corner becoming more clinical and stunted. Jason felt as if he heard a collective sigh when Sector two flashed up to red. The challenger has been removed.

As Roy was rolled out into the lane, Jason felt himself holding his breath and he tapped Roy’s helmet as he went past. ‘Good luck.’ He smiled but Roy didn’t hear him.

The outlaw car hit the track, Babs now suddenly sat in the pit wall as mechanics read various numbers and words off of varying screens. He felt people watching him. You see unlike Metropolis, Outlaw had so much to prove and Roy was being cast out as the symbol for the entire paddock to see. The car looked jumpy, nippy or jolty from the outside, still, Roy was quick, almost quicker than throughout their training week. People were definitely watching now as Sector 2 popped up green he almost choked on his own spit. Elation lit up the teams faces as Roy made it successfully to the end of the track, although now in the red he had conveyed the potential which the car held, volatile, passionate and dangerous.

Pulling his friend into a tight hug they touched foreheads, Roy grinning from his outstanding performance. Jason heard the cameras click but he refused to let them take away from Roy’s victory. Kori cheered from behind Roy and Jason looked to Cass who was enthusiastically showing Babs a clipboard of times. Feeling an expectation pool over him, Jason worried about whether he would be able to live up to the standard that had been set.

Roy joined Jason in front of his pizza box, taking a slice and stuffing it down his throat, his fire hair slick with sweat. Their heads moved to the right following the Destello car which was joining the track. A small body was curled against the wall of their neighbouring garage, his eyes looking to the pair every so often. ‘You want some?’ Jason pushed the box towards the emerald racer.

‘I’m fine thanks.’ Tim smiled softly at Jason as he ran a hand through his raven hair, which was clipped on the sides of his head.

‘Kid have some.’ Roy nodded to him, something in his voice obviously urged Tim to eat as he took a slice of Margherita and began to chew on the end of the base. ‘You were super quick today. Is this your first time?’

‘Yep. I wasn’t fast enough though.’

Jason laughed softly. ‘Don’t beat yourself up, it would be insane to beat Ranzz on your first time out.’ He recognised a passion which sat in the back of Tim’s steely eyes, something about him made it seem cold though. His eyes were as sunken as they had looked online and yet he still looked extremely young, to a point which disturbed Jason. Popping the crust of a slice into his mouth, he watched Timothy pull a string of cheese with his teeth. He was a lot more human than they had believed. Pain surrounded his soul, he wouldn’t let them make Tim feel like shit as young Jason had. Jason would look out for him.

A flash of orange and yellow interrupted his thoughts, Wally was watching the sparks which spewed from the bottom chassis as Bart flew around the corner. Jaime watched silently, his fingers drumming against his helmet on the floor. He had a sharp jawline and short clipped hair, a sign of discipline and yet something called to Jason; perhaps the drumming of his fingers, perhaps his pursed lips or the way his helmet was lit aflame with embers and sparks.

Jason felt the way Tim’s eyes were scanning his body. ‘We didn’t meet at the gala, Jason Todd.’ He held a greasy hand forwards, Tim’s small one slotting into his palm as they shook.

‘Tim Drake.’ Thoughts fluttered in his skull, Jason felt himself saying  _ you live next to my greek god of a pursuer _ but he bit his lip forcing the words down. ‘You enjoying outlaw?’ His steel eyes stared into the garage, counting the number of engineers and attendees who were moving around in circles.

‘Yeah. It’s good to be back on the track for sure.’ Jason chewed on some dough, speaking as the food went around his cheeks. ’And you? Powers’ the shit?’

Tim laughed softly at Jason’s personal dialect. ‘It’s hard’, he took a breath, ‘Luthor is tough and Mercy is tough and I am not good with people.’

Roy’s head hung forwards as the Destello car rolled back into the garage, Bart waving his hands about at Jaime who was now walking alongside him back to the engineers. ‘You seem okay to me and I’ve met a lot of insane people.’, harking back to the days when his bed in rehab was next to some crackheads who tried to drink bleach every other weekend.

‘And at least you have,’ he looked up to the right, ‘Conner.’ Tim went quiet at the words, his lips dropping into some sort of frown or dead look. 

Gathering his emotions, he held a hand in his hair and smiled softly. ‘Yeah, he is nice.’ Suddenly a woman with a prosthetic arm grabbed Tim’s shoulder, pulling him up to a standing position as both Roy and Jason looked in their direction. The true blue car on the screen was the penultimate race around the track for the first round, Virgil’s dreads sticking out the bottom of his deep blue helmet.

‘What did we say about talking with other teams?’

‘But-’

‘If you are desperate for company Conner is here and Garfield and Grant are in garage two.’ Mercy was hissing in a quiet voice.

‘Okay.’ She left, back to the garage, and Tim waved to them before disappearing behind the wall in succession.

Roy squeezed his elbow, pulling his attention away from then, ‘That’s an abusive relationship if I’ve ever seen one.’ 

‘Keep an eye will ya?’

‘Course.’

Jason elbowed his way past Cass and towards Babs, it would be his turn to go after the engineers fixed up the spoiler feature which had slowed Roy down on the last Sector.

He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a voice, which was flowing out of the speakers around the pits. ~Round one has finished. Round two commencing at one-thirty~

Feeling anticipation rising in his stomach, he moved away from Babs; the Fucco Ardente engine was being pumped softly in the background. The screen flashed up and the press all looked up to the large screen. The numbers stacked on top of each other, piling up to show who were the predators and who were the prey. He held his breath.

**Testing session one - Day 1, 2017**

**1 Garth Ranzz Saagar**

**2 Roy Harper Outlaw Sport**

**3 Tim Drake Metropolis Power**

**4 Zachary Zatanna Laenaran**

**5 Wally West Central Mechanics**

**6 Garfield Logan Janus Tech**

**7 Virgil Hawkins Rushford**

**8 Bartholomew Allen Destello**

**9 Cameron Mahkent Fucco Ardente**

The outlaw garage definitely made the most noise at the visual affirmation that they had beaten both Metropolis Power and Janus Tech, the biggest powerhouses in the whole sport. The shock that Roy had improved so much over the week from training, able to find his guts and face the challenge. Pride filled him, Roy was the big thing even though he was second.

And yet, a burning hole began to spark inside of him. He would not be able to live up to Roy, especially with all these people staring at him and taking pictures and expecting him to be great. Jason wasn’t ready to return. He never should have, Roman’s words cutting deep into his tender confidence. 

There was a difference between the fire caused by fear and the radiating heat of his phone, and in thinking of all those who trusted him, who believed in his talent; his mother's hands cupping his cheeks as she drifted away, he knew that even though he thought he couldn’t he  _ knew _ he had to.

His future was inescapable and he felt Roy pass fate onto him in a reassuring glance,  _ you can do this _ and for once he had some sort of hope that he could.


	11. Questions and answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘You can do this.’ The voice was at first a whisper, growing louder as he heard the engine roar to life; his thumbs caressing each button with such care and nerve. 
> 
> ‘I know you can.’ Roy’s green eyes were staring deep into Jason’s visor, the afternoon sun reflecting ever so slightly in its plastic sheen. ‘They all told you you couldn’t but you can. Show them you can!’
> 
> Jason sends a text, Tim makes a friend and Dick falls further into the pit of love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I hope you had a good Halloween or celebration wherever you are. All the characters are based on real F1 drivers so they are normally this crazy and strange lol. I hope you all enjoy this chapter and I know uploads have been more spread out but I am still aiming to post every two weeks (basically the same schedule as the actual F1 season). Thanks, Bhavy for editing once more!
> 
> If anyone has specific ideas about what they would like to see please comment them because it would be great inspiration!
> 
> Stay safe everyone and thanks for reading :)
> 
> Kudos and comments appreciated <3

‘You can do this.’ The voice was at first a whisper, growing louder as he heard the engine roar to life; his thumbs caressing each button with such care and nerve. 

‘I know you can.’ Roy’s green eyes were staring deep into Jason’s visor, the afternoon sun reflecting ever so slightly in its plastic sheen. ‘They all told you you couldn’t but you can. Show them you can!’

Jason’s nod was an affirmation of Roy’s words, the engine revving as he felt the car begin to move. The team, clad entirely in blue and black lycra, pushed the nose of the car out into the pits. Jason’s mind jumped as the console lit up, a cracking in his ear reminded him of the radio team who were at the moment sheltered under the pit wall, a plethora of screens lighting up their faces. 

‘Leaving box now, leaving box now.’ Jason’s mind was silent as his foot pushed down on the right pedal, gas flooding into the engine and lighting the spark that lay deep in his stomach. Cass wasn’t allowed to talk to him during the race unless it was an emergency, Jason memorised her tone in his head as he passed by a crowd of multicolour racers. Cameras clicked.

Only then Jason realised that this was for the team, not for  _ them _ , but for the kid who had been here since two in the morning fixing the stuck paddle on his steering console. He had brown fuzzy hair, a lopsided smile and oil streaked fingers. Maybe 18? Maybe 19? Watching the very steps Jason took with bated breath. Jason remembered the way he had crossed his fingers when he got in the car, an older and more stiff man across the room had stared; he had green eyes which sparkled the essence of calculation. Nygma. Either way, that kid knew Jason could do it. Roy knew he could do it.

God above! in a different continent Dick Grayson cradled his perfect head in his perfect palms as he sucked on a perfect pen lid,  _ Jason’s  _ potential perfection made Dick’s very heart race.

And with that concluded, he left the pits bringing the car to a pace which he had once dreamed of. In his ear noises pinged and beeped, as the car rewarded him for changing into the right gear when he had turned corner one or pushing on the DRS as the straight revealed herself; empty and wide she urged him forwards. As Jason pulled the wheel to the left, tires bumping on the red and white borders, he knew that he had passed sector one. Would he be faster than the fastest? Who knew? 

In the moment Jason was thankful for the fact that the console didn’t report his times to him, his heart was racing enough as he approached the end of sector two; the chicane towards the end caused him to lock his arms up as the steering became almost feral. For a second or two his thoughts began to blur, his mic recording every deep troubled breath he took as a drop of sweat slid down the back of his neck. And yet he managed to cross the line, a loud noise of either a scream or a shout or a yelp escaping his mouth as he did and crowing him the unawarded champion of the day.

Class’s voice finally returned, thawing the silence Jason had been caught in. ‘1:15:42! Great lap Jason.’ 

**1:15:42**

‘Shit, that’s quick!’, Jason heard his words out loud, ‘Fucking hell! Fucking hell!’ A feeling of pride began to swell in his chest as he returned to the box- pit and threw his helmet off in celebration. His hand outstretched towards the sky in shock at what the team had been able to accomplish. Looking at his feet he realised he was still standing in the car, dusty marks left on the seat, and that his team were surrounding the car. The cameras clicked as he raised a cheer from their throats, Cass and Babs frantically waving from the pit wall. Roy climbed up next to him to squeeze him back to reality. 

And in the corner of his mind, a kid with a lopsided smile embraced a peer, his hand moving over the rear of the car congratulating the beauty which she was. 

And somewhere in Bruce Wayne’s study, Dick Grayson looked over his father's shoulder at his phone and felt a blooming in his chest. He knew he  _ could  _ do it and he _ had _ .

~~~~~~~~~~~

Jason rubbed his eyes as light poured into his hotel room, his hand wrapped around a pillow which was squished between his thighs. Pushing his hips forwards he groaned slightly at the friction. 

His room was on the fourth floor, pristine white and marble. The bed had been pushed up against the floor to ceiling window displaying the stream of media personnel who had been invited for the second day of the testing. The track was twisting and turning, it’s obsidian tarmac sweltering heat, Jason memorised the turn of the steering wheel from the day before.

Picking up his phone, Jason’s heartbeat fluttered, potential words on his screen reaching his chest. Slowly, he typed out two letters.

**Dick**

_ hi _

Pressing send he watched as the words ‘delivered’ popped beneath the message; he swiped the tab away before flicking to the schedule app that Kori had forced them to download. Breakfast was in five minutes and he hadn’t even got his first smoke in, christ the morning was going well. Throwing himself out of bed he pulled an electric blue polo out of his wardrobe and yanked it over his head, the words Outlaw Sport branding his chest once more, the breast pocket reading Wayne Enterprises. Jason considered whether jeans or trackies would be more appropriate, opting with a grumble to pull on a pair of washed-out jeans. 

Shoving a pack of cigs into his back pocket, he pinged the button for the lift; he would be five minutes late but none of them would be surprised. The cafeteria had been cut off for only team members with the starving media being locked out of the hotel building. Roy was sat opposite Garth and Wally, Victor and Kaldur stood at the buffet spooning what looked like scrambled eggs onto an already piled plate. Jason scanned the room quickly and felt his body freeze when he locked eyes with Garfield; a slight smile appeared on Garfield’s lips and Jason nodded back. Reconciliation. 

Smile slipping, he noticed the guy sat next to Gar; his white hair a match to Jason’s tuft of bleached hair. The kid who had taken his seat stared at him with sudden resolve, Jason feeling Roman’s anger in the guy’s face. Tim, who was sat opposite the white-haired imposter, looked sunken, his eye bags bigger than before as he dipped his lips into a cup of piping hot coffee. Conner, the second driver for Metropolis power, watched Tim’s lips before turning back to Gar, making some nonchalant comment about the weather or whatever.

In all honesty, Jason couldn’t really hear.

Moving towards Roy, he noticed Zachary sat beside him, his deep eyes beckoning Jason forwards. Jason was now standing next to Roy, ‘You’re late.’ 

‘I know.’ There was a moment of silence between them as Zachary cupped his tea. ‘Imma go have my cig.’ He had spotted a smoking area which was just outside the cafeteria, his addiction jumping at the site of it. The air was warm as he flicked the lighter with his thumb, the flame dancing as it caught onto the end of his cig. Taking a deep to inhale, he felt the smoke circulating out through his nose, his hands shook ever so slightly as he pulled the cigarette away from his lips. Ahead of him the sandy hills looked dusty and he could hear the sound of people, the paddock was free due to the lack of cars and so the media were allowed to mill around until the cars began to run the track again. His cigarette was halfway done and for some reason, he felt a bit ashamed dropping it to the floor and grinding it with his heel. Maybe it was the fact they could all see him, maybe it was the weight of his phone in his pocket, maybe it was the sound of people moving around but suddenly he felt like he could hold off his addiction.

Pushing back through the door, he shoved his box of cigs into the back of his pocket and moved to the buffet. Did he ponder over the choice, fried eggs or poached? Crispy bacon or grilled? White toast or brown? Considering the time when he hadn't had any food he felt very overwhelmed by the choice. In the end, he went for toast, a pile of bacon and a fuck load of ketchup. Pulling up a chair, he shuffled in next to Roy and Victor, Jason had never felt more conscious of the way he stunk of smoke. He silently shoved some bacon into his mouth, listening in to what they were saying. 

Zachary spoke with a level of refinement, charisma dripping from his tongue, ‘You sleep well Jason?’

Jason looked up to him trying to wipe any ketchup from his lips. ‘Yeah, fine. Dreamt about getting in my car naked and crashing it into the barrier, so if that’s any symbol for today then I’m fucked.’

The Laenaran driver grinned at Jason, who spoke with an honesty that was fairly refreshing for the sport. ‘I was impressed by your times yesterday, the cars are fast.’

Roy nodded for Jason, grinning in pride for his team. ‘We were both shocked at how fast we were.’ 

‘I know your cars shocked our team.’ Kaldur said softly, watching Jason dip a piece of toast into ketchup before pushing it down his throat.

Jason sputtered, ‘It’s only day one.’, he sprayed some crumbs as he spoke. His phone vibrated interrupting his train of thought, a notification from the neon planner app telling him he had a conference in ten minutes. Jason slouched in his chair, conferences normally consisted of about five drivers all from different teams sat round not able to answer questions which the press asked. ‘Is anyone doing the con with me?’ He looked around the table. To his disappointment, they all shook their heads; he even would have been happy with Wally but no, he was destined to suffer.

Zachary sipped at his coffee as the other sat in silence. ‘I think Brion, my teammate is doing it. That’s all I know.’ Jason had spotted Brion the day before, dark and sullen, he screamed ‘daddy’s money’.

‘Hmmm okay.’ Jason sighed putting his knife and fork together. It was going to be a long morning for sure.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim followed the group out of the cantine and towards the race control, now made up of different garages which had been painted the subsequent colours of their teams. Reaching forwards he grabbed Kon’s upper arm, his cold hands touching the muscle there. ‘I have to go,’ Looking up Tim’s breath caught in his throat; his eyes locking with Kon’s, ‘I have a conference thing, um yeah.’ They had both now stopped and in their joint silence, Tim remembered that they weren’t on speaking terms. Kon’s eyes shimmered steel and he nodded before walking away, leaving Tim, stood alone in the middle of the hallway. 

‘Drake!’, the rookie’s head snapped to the left as the brash voice summoned him, ‘You going to this con?’ Jason was so much taller than him, wide at the shoulders and an overall grey colour; the smoke that poured off of him a symbol for his lack of level in society. But for some reason Jason intrigued Tim, maybe it was the way he just didn’t care, maybe it was the way his lips curled at the edges, maybe it was the bleach white streak which reminded him of Grant Wilson. Jason brushed some crumbs from said lips as he waited for Tim’s response.

Tim snapped out of his thoughts, ‘Yeah.’, he breathed out loudly, feeling his chest rise as he did.

Jason titled his head towards the main hotel reception, Tim knew the conference room was somewhere around there, ‘Let’s go then, it won’t be so shit if we’re together.’ Tim nodded but deep in his mind, he knew that  _ they _ wouldn’t be happy to see him walking let alone talking with Jason Todd. The guy didn’t have the best reputation for sure. 

‘You eva’ done one of these before?’ Jason’s accent was thick (like the rest of him), Tim being reminded of the fake Gotham that he and his mother lived in. Wouldn’t Janet love to see him now? 

‘No. I think it will be fine though.’

‘It’s fucking awful!’ Jason grinned to him, ‘You have to sit there and pretend you’re interested and then answer questions which in reality no one cares about. Like’, he took a breath, ‘Jason, when is your favourite time to eat poached eggs? Um, morning?’ He mimicked a reporter, Lex had shown Tim a video of what not to do in front of the press; Jason’s famous run-in after coming 16th the shining example for such a demonstration.

‘Let’s try and make it quick then.’ Tim raised an eyebrow at the older man, they had moved into the conference room which was just past reception.

Jason stopped before pushing the final door open. ‘I’m beginning to like you, Drake.’ Tim felt a smile gripping his face as Jason pushed past him, he bet he looked like an idiot as he tried to suppress the emotion further.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The room was packed with journalists, chairs lined up in rows which faced a large desk, a woman with a sorta Kris Jenner hair cut (yes they exist in this universe) beckoned Jason forwards giving him an earpiece; the wire wrapping around the back of his head. It reminded Jason of the tubes they had shoved up his nose in hospital, waking up to choke on a tube which had been forced down his throat. 

Jason looked towards the desk, he saw Jaime and Virgil chatting; the blue and red of their opposing suits complementing each other. Adjusting the earpiece, he was led to the seat next to Virgil; the two seats next to him were still empty, one for Tim and one for Brion. Tim shuffled into the seat next to him and smiled at the two on the other side of Jason, the green of his polo showing the moon-like undertone of his skin. He offered a small round wave, the action reminding Jason of Cass; he hadn’t seen her yet today. Looking to the door, the sound of chatter bubbling throughout the room, Jason watched Brion push the earpiece into his own ear and march over to the free chair; he ignored the rest of the panel as he shuffled the microphone in front of him.

The panel faced an almost wall of cameras, notepads poised and a list of questions ready. The light above the camera flashed green, eight lights in a row forcing him to push on the throttle, and a man at a lower table held a glittering metal microphone to his lips.

‘Okay everyone, we have these gentlemen here today to answer questions. Let's keep it civil and quick.’, he gestured to the panel, ‘We have, moving from right to left, Jaime Reyes from Destello, Virgil Hawkins from Rushford, Timothy Drake from Metropolis power, Jason Todd from Outlaw Power’, Jason smiled at the sound of his name, ‘and Brion Markov from Laenaran.’

There was a buzzing in the air as the camera lights blinked and the man, who was moderating the con thank god, pointed at the crowd; a woman stood up in response. 

‘Vicky Vale, Gotham Gazette.’ She announced herself. ‘Lovely to see you all gentlemen, this question is to everyone, what is the one thing that gives you an advantage over the rest of the grid this season?’

Jason’s mind raced in search of an answer, his leg jigging under the table, should he be serious or play it cool. He felt sorry for Jaime who was expected to go first. ‘I guess our pit crew, they are extremely established and practised. Um yeah.’ His voice was calm but the question was fairly cut and dry so it was understandable that his answer was very short.

Virgil pulled a hand through his dreads and smiled at Vicky, Jaime was breathing a sigh of relief that he had a moment to relax, people scribbled down notes onto paper; they could make a story out of one word if they had to. ‘This season Rushford have really improved our DRS system which will really help us on the straights, so I’m looking forward to getting my hands on that.’

‘Caressing the car again are we?’ Jason jumped in, a grin spread across his face as Virgil was reminded of the time he had admitted to giving his car a name and persona before racing. The room let out a rumble as people laughed, Jason, feeling some of the pressure rolling off of his shoulders.

In the corner of his eye, Jason watched Tim struggle to get people's attention. ‘Um, consistency.’ Tim said in a very quiet voice. Ther room dropped to a low as Jason realised none of them had heard him, smiling at Tim he signalled to repeat himself, the poor kid’s hands were twisted in a fleshy knot under the table. ‘Consistency.’ He cleared his throat before repeating himself and the crowd nodded in agreement. A simple answer. A simple response.

‘I’ve got to say being good looking.’ Jason was rewarded with loud laughs once more, he was settling into his racing persona with every second; this person was so very different to the man whose hands had shaken whilst inhaling a grey cloud.

Vicky Vale shook her head as she laughed softly. ‘Gotham natives for you everyone. Is that your final answer?’ 

‘Locked in.’

‘Okay, Brion?’ The mood dropped as Brion stared emotionlessly at the crowd, his face was stuck in an expression of disgust which Austen would definitely describe as ‘a permanent state of obstinate and stubbornness’. He began to talk in a monotone voice about tire pressure and gage around corners. Jason was definitely more popular than him; small wins.

Vicky Vale was now sitting down in her chair as another man stood up. ‘Clark Kent, the Daily Planet. This one goes to Timothy, Jaime and Brion.’ The man wore large brimmed glasses, his hair brushed back in a way that framed his angular face. ‘What does it feel like to be competing in your first season of formula one?’ Jason appreciated the moment of silence he gained as the rookies gathered their thoughts, leaning back on his chair Jason smiled at Virgil who was also relaxing his body into the plastic chair.

‘Yeah I can go first,’ Tim waved around his finger in the air as he leaned forwards into the microphone. ‘I am feeling very good about this season and I am extremely grateful to Lex for giving me this chance to be in Formula One. Uh- It’s an honour to even be in such a tested car and to wear the green is a goal that I have been reaching for my whole career as a karter and now I’m here so I have to thank Lex.’

Jaime followed him, ‘Yeah I mean I have been wanting to be in a team from Mexico for what feels like years and I feel so happy to be representing my home country. It’s an honour honestly and I couldn't be more blessed to have such a welcoming crew….and Bart.’ They laughed once more and Jason remembered the way the kid had been practically vibrating in the cafeteria.

Brion droned on about why he had been chosen over all the other desperate rookies but if one was able to read minds they would see that the image of a bank stacked full of money was displayed in each one of the drivers head.

There was a lot more scribbling before the man sat back down. Jason looked to the crowd as once more a boney finger picked out a new journalist. She had two big pigtails and a low v neck, her cheeks speckled with blush and highlight. ‘Sandy Klaubersaff.’ Her German accent rang strongly throughout the room; Jason saw the way she stared at him and realised she was gonna do it, be the one to ask him about the crash. He took a deep breath in. ‘Jason, we are obviously all excited to have you back in the sport and I know it’s a frustrating question but we all want to know how you have recovered and how you plan to approach this season?’

Jason sat up in his chair and watched as the journalists poised their pens ready. ‘Yeah I think younger me would be annoyed by that question but present me is not, so don’t worry. You all know but in the crash, I damaged and injured a lot of me and was in hospital for a while; luckily I had enough money to pay for my physiotherapy which means that I don't have as much pain as I thought I would. I am thankful that I have been given a second chance and um,’ he took a breath, ‘I am in a much better mental situation now, with much more support than before, so I think I will definitely be able to put on a show for you this year.’ He smiled to himself softly, good job Jason.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Dick Grayson relaxed into the sofa in the main sitting room of Wayne Manor. Damian languidly lay stretched out on another sofa, the bowl in his hands filled with what looked like daal topped with mushrooms. He pointed the remote in his hand towards the large tv on the wall and flipped on the main channel. Dick’s finger hovered over his phone, Jason’s name making his heart swell with compassion. The fact Jason had texted him. Jason had texted him. Someone, please help Dick Grayson, he felt like he was floating on cloud nine.

Honestly, it felt more like the last time he had swallowed that peculiar pill which had been handed to him in Magaluf. He remembered the way in which the world had turned pink and how his head had crackled like rice crispies. Waking up that morning, he had been shocked at the man in his bed, he had never called himself bisexual before and yet this man in his bed showed all the marks of someone Dick had loved. The marks over his jugular, the small bruises over his chest and the way his lips looked almost chewed up. Dick had made him coffee and given him enough money to get a taxi back to Magaluf; he was a well-mannered boy after all. In the end, Dick had been most surprised that he had somehow managed to remember his Spanish overnight; this man speaking with a thick Spanish accent that indicated he was a local.

He was pulled back from his memories by the feeling of Bruce sinking into the sofa next to him. Bruce tapped his shoulder showing him a text from Babs. 

**Barbara**

_ Roy and Jason did very well yesterday! Jason is in a conference at the moment but I’ve heard from Stephanie that he is doing very well. All good news so far, I will keep you updated! _

‘Flick on the sports channel Damian, will you?’

Damian groaned before skipping through the numbers quickly until he reached the last of the sports channel, Dick sitting forwards at the sight of a car racing around a track. ‘It’s Wally.’ he smiled watching as Wally waved to the camera’s as he jumped out of his silver chrome car. Dick hadn’t talked to him in so long, his brain barking back to the days of being sat on a yacht watching as Wally raced past him; they had been friends since they were boys.

The scene cut to two men sat on stools in the middle of what looked like the quad behind the Spanish grandstand.

_ ‘So as you can hear from the noises from the track practice has started for today. We’ve heard news that something has gone wrong with the Rushford car and the crew are working on it now. Honestly, Max, it’s not a great start for the English based team.’ _

_ ‘Yep you’re right Trev, it’s just not good enough honestly but hopefully, those guys get it turned around for Allen to race by this afternoon. Anyway looking to a team doing really well Outlaw Sport have made a great debut here in Alicante. The Gotham founded team are one of the only new teams with their own power unit and they are making a mark with their team line up. We interviewed Roy Harper the other day but today we want to take a look at his teammate Jason Todd. Roll the tape.’ _

Dick leant forwards as the screen transitioned to black, the story of his new love being played to him like a piece of theatre.

_ A car raced around a corner, ‘There he is Jason Todd the boy wonder! He has done it again!’, a commentator shouted as Jason’s scarlet car crossed the line in front of all the others. The scene then switched to Jason running onto the podium, his hands in the air and his hair in an almost mullet. _

‘God Jason, you had a mullet? I would have loved to run that through my hand through that hair. I would have made sure you were safe.’ Dick’s thoughts danced through his brain.

_ The commentator’s voice returned a young Jason sprayed champagne everywhere all over the podium as well as Garth and Wally who was standing next to him. Then it faded to his next race,  _ Dick felt passion fill his face,  _ Jason was near losing, driving dangerously with gritted teeth; he was filmed jumping out of his car and throwing his toys out of the pram. A woman gripped him but his language was bleeped out for each swear. The montage continued to show Jason becoming angrier as that podium seemed more and more unreadable.  _

_ Then it faded out to a helicopter shot of that fatal track. ‘Welcome to Spa everyone we have a great race coming for you today!’ It showed Jason hairing around the corners and driving basically on the back of the green car in front of him. Suddenly there was a bang and a wheel in the air and his head lolling back and he went straight into the barrier, the car spinning round and round and round before metal crumpled around his small body. _

Dick felt sick to his stomach at the sight of the scarlet helmet now hanging forwards, Jason’s body dangerously slumped showing the effect of a tire to the face. 

_ ‘That is a bad crash.’ The commentator's voice was grave as the sound of an ambulance rang throughout the ring, almost louder than the cars still racing around. The camera was pulled away from the deathly site and the scene faded back to the rest of the drivers stood around in a circle as the red car was towed back through the paddock. The screen once more faded to black. _

_ ‘Jason Todd suffered traumatic injuries to the back of his head and subsequently was in a coma for around half a year.’ A picture of Jason appeared on screen, his head wrapped in bandage, his mouth covered by a ventilator which was forcing his tiny chest to keep rising. ‘He also suffered seven broken ribs, a broken leg and dislocated shoulder due to the impact of hitting the crash barrier at such a speed. Todd will have permanent scarring to his thighs and back due to the lacerations he received when his car crumpled around him. This is a reminder of the dangerous reality that is F1 luckily Jason Todd survived this dance with death.’ _

The sight of a nearly dead Jason made Dick want to scream. ‘Why do you do this to yourself? Why do it again?’

_ ‘And returning this season we have Jason Todd, the boy wonder has changed into much more of a man than a boy. After recovering from his tragic accident at Spa Todd promises to prove to everyone that he can still do it. Today in Alicante he seemed unbothered and professional, cracking a few jokes here and there showing his new maturity.’ It cut to Jason grinning at a journalist who began to laugh at whatever thing he had said. ‘However, it’s very obvious that Todd will be a contender this year and we know we can count on him to bring some more passion to this season!’ It panned to a picture of Jason streaked with electric blue, his hair clipped and his cheekbones strong. _

Dick smiled to himself. ‘Oh Jason, the things you do to me.’

~~~~~~~~~~~

Walking back from the conference room, Jason rewarded himself on keeping his calm during his first confrontation with the press. He knew his face would be plastered across every screen, he didn’t want to inflate his ego but he  _ was _ the main event; some sort of emotion flushing his brain with endorphins.

He walked next to Virgil, whose jawline was greek god-like, listening to him hum some R&B song from years ago. Up ahead a red body was bent over a water fountain, mouthing at a stream of water which sprung up towards him. ‘I’ll see you later.’ Jason gestured towards Virgil who nodded and continued forwards past the bent-over body.

‘Thirsty as usual?’ Jason smiled leaning up against the wall next to the red driver. 

Flipping his hair up in a quick motion Garfield grinned at Jason before pulling him into an unexpected hug. Jason found it strange, he was now so much taller than Garfield, the last time they had hugged was when he had gotten wasted in Monza and had pulled Gar onto the dancefloor. ‘God, you’ve grown so much Todd.’ Gar patted him on the shoulder like some sort of older brother. ‘You - you okay?’

‘Yeah, Gar, I feel good.’ He smiled to himself. ‘I feel really good for once.’ There was a moment of silence before he continued. ‘Roman still giving you shit?’

‘He was always worse to you than he was to me.’ Gar smiled at his old teammate. ‘The new guy reminds me of a young you.’

‘Really?’ Jason scratched the back of his head. 

Gar was nodding now. ‘Yeah he-.’

And there he was pushing past Jason to interrupt their conversation. His snow-white hair was stark to Jason’s eyes, his eyes a metal grey colour. Pushing his hand forwards he grabbed Jason’s own palm and squeezed it tight as they shook, overcompensating, are we? Jason felt a patronising smirk begin to plaster his face.

‘Grant Wilson.’

‘Jason Todd.’ 

‘I know who you are.’ Grant clipped back, his voice cold and confrontational. 

Jason couldn’t help but let a laugh escape his pursed lips at the stare the driver was giving him, he really did stink of young Jason. ‘What’s funny?’ Grant frowned at Jason who really was struggling to keep another snigger from escaping his lips.

‘Nothing’, Jason shook away his laughs trying to seem serious, ‘You just remind me of a young me.’ He was trying to come across as genuine as possible but no Grant was obviously extremely upset as his comment.

Grant stepped back from Jason and lifted his chin in a show of masculinity. ‘That’s not a compliment.’ Grant turned away, stomping back to the pits. Jason held a hand over his mouth, looking to Garfield for some sort of reassurance. ‘I told you! He is the same as you were.’

Jason’s phone vibrated. His heart fluttered.

**Stephanie**

_ Heya, where are you? _

‘I’ve gotta get going, my team is on my ass.’

‘See ya.’ Garfield turned back to the fountain allowing Jason to leave. He weaved through the narrow corridors before joining the paddock and making his way into the pits once more, which was now branded with his and Roy’s numbers: 18 and 52. 

‘There you are!’, Stephanie shouted out to Jason, ‘We’ve been waiting for you.’

Barbara was next to Roy, her blood-red hair pulled back into a neat ponytail, ‘We are still going good, we’ve picked up a puncture and some damage on the bottom of the car so we won’t be racing for a couple more hours. We may just race Roy today because we want to see if he can feel a difference in the changes.’ Jason nodded, slightly annoyed that he would be sitting around for the whole day but also grateful that he could get to know that kid who was working on the car; to be able to trust his crew they had to trust him as well.

‘I’ll go get my suit and helmet on then.’

Roy waved to him. ‘See ya in a sec.’

~~~~~~~~~~~

Sinking down into the warmth and unknown of his bath full of hot water, Jason let out a long sigh. The bubbles which were spilling over the tub, which was definitely not made for a 6’2 athlete, scratching ever so slightly as the sprouting forest along his chin. He watched as his toe popped up out of a pile of soapy goodness on the other side of the bath, flexing his foot muscle ever so slightly and watching as his toes danced about in the bubbles. To fit his body into the bath Jason had to hang one foot out and rest one foot on the glistening set of taps; he felt like a giant in the hotel’s bathroom. 

His phone looked small in his hands, which rested just above the layer of bubbles, he tilted the phone on its side; time to rewatch the BBC’s version of Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables. As he heard the titles begin to role he dipped his head back into the water, the heat caressing his forehead and then his temples as he arched further into the water. Letting out a large groan he was happy that he wasn’t sharing a room this week; although he loved Roy it was nice to fully relax. 

He spoke too soon.

Catching his phone after throwing it up in the air, he realized why his phone was vibrating rhythmically. Dick was calling. What the fuck should he do? He was naked and in the bath. He struggled with his phone trying to clean a splash of water off of his phone, breathing in heavily as his thumb pressed against the green answer button. The screen suddenly zoomed out, Dick’s smiley face filling the entire screen.

‘Dick now is probably not a good ti-’

‘Jason!’ Dick shouted, obviously surprised that he had actually picked up. ‘How are you?’

‘Yeah, I’m fine.’ Jason tried to angle the camera so that only his face was in shot. 

‘I saw you on TV today and Bruce tells me you’ve done really well so far.’ Dick was wearing a white t-shirt, leaning back on a headboard, his long dark bangs hanging forwards in his face. Basically, Dick looked divine and Jason was sitting in the bath with his massive thighs hanging out the tub. 

‘Yeah, it’s gone well.’ Jason did feel strange having heard that Dick had watched him on TV. ‘Did ya’ see the con?’

‘Con?’ Dick returned in his soft Gotham accent.

‘Conference.’ Replied with his thicker and rougher tone.

‘No. It was some article about your time with Janus’, Jason felt sick at the name, 'your crash and your recovery.’ Dick pulled a piece of hair around his finger before almost freezing and then pulling the camera closer to his face. Jason flushed realising that Dick had noticed. 

‘Are you in the-?’

‘Yes.’

‘God, Jason you're in the bath?’

Jason swallowed. ‘Nah, I’ll get out now.’

‘No, no it’s fine. I’m happy for you to be in the bath just sad you’re teasing me like this. Your shoulders are so broad.’ Dick was leaning forwards to rest his chin on his hand, his eyes twinkling gently as he locked eyes with the camera. ‘Mhmm.’ He hummed to himself softly.

Jason rolled his eyes before throwing his phone onto a mound of towels. ‘Right I’m getting out.’

‘Noooooooo!’ Dick exclaimed practically begging Jason to stay with the bubbles speckled across his muscled pecs.

‘Yes.’

‘Nooooooo!’

‘Yes.’

‘Okay.’ Dick continued on with the conversation, Damian this, Bruce that, and oh my lord have you met Wally yet? As Jason dried his arms off-camera, he allowed himself to smile ever so slightly. Fuck it Dick wouldn’t see anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay safe everyone and thanks for reading :)
> 
> Kudos and comments appreciated <3


	12. Nature and nurture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy’s eyes sparkled, his hand touching a red mark which was beginning to bloom on his cheek. 
> 
> ‘You’re a cunt y’know?’ His star accent was thickening as he grew frustrated. Jason pushed his way through the crowd of chatting drivers, recognising Roy’s frustration from across the club. 
> 
> Jason moved Brion out of the way, he was watching the altercation out of the corner of his eye; he felt the strobe lights above him seeping deep into his pores, replicating the feeling of booze pumping through his blood and brain. 
> 
> The sound of a crack on bone signalled to Jason that it was probably too late to save his teammate’s reputation. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Here is the new chapter for these past weeks which does have a sprinkle of Christmas in it but also more Roman being a dick, so yay. I know I always say this but I absolutely love this chapter and I hope you all love it as well. 
> 
> In real life so much has happened within F1 as a whole. Romain Grosjean had his awful crash, George Russell raced in a Mercedes and Lewis Hamilton won his 7th World Championship. To some extent writing a narrative story based on F1 and watching the season has made me think about some things that I would like to say:
> 
> 1\. Characters are based on real-life drivers but are not copies of them e.g Roy and Daniel Ricciardo   
> 2\. Races and events are based on real-life to help me make an interesting story which still stays relevant to the sport (to some level of course lol)  
> 3\. Traumatic fictional events such as crashes are meant to not diminish those events which happen in real life but highlight the reality of life in F1 and being an F1 driver.
> 
> I hope this all makes sense and on with the story then!
> 
> If anyone has ideas they would like to see then please feel free to comment them. Hopefully, I will post again in a couple of weeks but I wish everyone happy and safe holidays.
> 
> Stay safe everyone!

Roy’s eyes sparkled, his hand touching a red mark which was beginning to bloom on his cheek. 

‘You’re a cunt y’know?’ His star accent was thickening as he grew frustrated. Jason pushed his way through the crowd of chatting drivers, recognising Roy’s frustration from across the club. 

Jason moved Brion out of the way, he was watching the altercation out of the corner of his eye; he felt the strobe lights above him seeping deep into his pores, replicating the feeling of booze pumping through his blood and brain. 

The sound of a crack on bone signalled to Jason that it was probably too late to save his teammate’s reputation. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

‘Clang’ the tire wrench fell to the floor, Roman observing the small body stood before him. Tiny waist, broad ribs, lips pulled into a tight grimace as his hand clenched around the missing wrench. 

Roman felt his lips move themselves, his Ferrari was missing a tire and he could presume that this kid had something to do with it.

Stepping forwards Roman watched the boy, backing away in an almost catlike position. ‘Dan’t ya tach’ me mister!’ His street accent filled the alleyway, so fresh and new and rough to Roman’s ripped up ear. 

‘If you put the tire back I will give you a ride in the car.’ The boy was negotiating now, Roman had seen the way his eyes hung on its red gloss. ‘She’s gorgeous isn’t she?’ Pulling his keys out Roman spun them around his fingers, showing his wealth in one simple gesture. 

‘Ya won’t touch me will ya?’ His little hands curled into circular fists, the image of some young strapping Gotham boy who had regressed from his own society. 

Roman’s scars were silvery in the light as he tilted his head towards the kid. ‘Now why would I want to touch you?’ The boy was silent in response, had Roman struck a nerve? ‘Anyway let’s get this tire back on.’ And by lets he meant just the kid, there was no way he would kneel to push rubber back into its rightful place. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the boy fulfil the task without further reassurance. Interesting. 

‘What’s your name boy?’

‘Jason.’ His voice’s twang was so distinct and - working class. It could be trained out of him.

‘Ya neva’ said ya name mista.’ 

‘Mr Sionis.’ Roman’s voice was clipped as he stepped into the car. A little extra weight wouldn’t make it harder to push that tire on. Would it? Roman’s lips turned up at the end as he watched the kid bent over in his mirror. 

After that evening everything changed.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Roman’s reeducation of Jason began with books, their pages soft under his scrappy fingers. He had read Dickens and Bronte and Orwell and Alcot and Austen, oh he had read Austen; he never questioned his adoration for disenfranchised women, perhaps he could relate. His room in Roman’s penthouse had a matte black bookcase which towered over his small body the same way Roman did.

Perhaps when reading he managed to escape from his scary new reality; at least when on the street one knew they would remain there, with Roman there was a heart racing uncertainty which felt like a rug being pulled out from beneath one’s feet. 

Jason’s least favourite part of his new millionaire lifestyle was his sleek and condescending speech therapist. One particularly difficult morning she had appeared from Roman’s office, her skirt in some sort of a twist, patting Jason’s head in a circular motion. 

‘Mmmm. Hum a M for me, Jason.’ Her smile was honey-sweet.

He screwed his hands in his lap. ‘Mmm.’

‘Mm-may I have a drink, please? Repeat my sentence.’ She nodded enthusiastically at Jason, her lips moving in a round motion. She probably had just been sucking Roman’s dick.

‘May I av’ a drink?’ Jason repeated his tone monotone as the words plodded through their conversation. 

She laughed as she wrapped a strand of hair around her finger. ‘P-p-please!’ There was silence as she waited for him to repeat her words, his green eyes empty of any emotion. She flushed when he refused to open his mouth. 

‘Please! Push your tongue back and say’, Her mouth was wide again and Jason had the urge to spit in it. She was a whore anyway but that thought made the Jane Austen lover inside him wither slightly, he decided against it. ‘Please!’

However, his patience was wearing off with every single second. She interrupted his thoughts once more. ‘Jason it is extremely rude to not have manners. You must say please!’

‘You know what’s rude?’ Jason perfected each word, his accent now the same as any upper-class Gotham snob. Leaning over the table towards the therapist he grinned, her eyes widening in what looked like fear; she was scared of him. ‘Coming to a speech therapy lesson when your breath stinks of cock.’ 

The woman looked horrified at Jason’s comment or maybe she was upset that he could actually speak well and had been faking it this entire time. Was this a good time to spit in her face? It definitely looked like it. Sucking his cheeks in to gather some saliva he-

‘Jason.’ His head snapped to the left in response; Roman was stood in the doorway, his scratched up face looking extra scary. ‘Samantha, I don’t think we will be needing your help anymore.’ Roman’s voice dripped ice cold as the woman scuttled towards the door. 

There was a moment of silence; Jason could hear his heart in his ears. 

‘So you can speak properly?’

‘Yup, I actually like reading.’ Jason mumbled softly

‘You’re a rat.’ Roman snarled, he had moved towards Jason. His hand was now grabbing the unruly locks of the boy’s hair, a history of throwing people about and issuing threats that shuddered throughout  _ his _ city. 

Squirming, Jason cried out. ’Mmm sorry. Please.’ Roman had mastered the way to pull hair, his grip twisting deep into Jason coal roots. 

Crouching down before him, Roman held Jason’s jaw in place. ‘I’m sorry. Aye’m sorry.’ His voice was strained as he emphasised the ‘I’ sound, his frustration with the stray boy growing greater. ‘Not mmm, aye! This is why you need a fucking speech therapist because you’re a street rat whose shit parents didn’t even care enough to send you to school.’

‘Mm-m-m’, he was stuttering now, ‘sorry.’ Jason’s body froze up as Roman’s hand slapped his cheek, the mix of leather and gold rings made it so much worse than an open hand slap. 

‘Say I.’

‘I.’ Jason was shaking in Roman’s grip, chewing at his inner cheek in order to subdue his bubbling anxiety. 

Roman’s grip transitioned to a soft stroke and his blackened lips turned into a malicious smile which Jason noted, would never leave his mind. ‘See you can be good.’ Stepping away Roman moved his belt around, Jason avoided his eye contact.

‘I like you, Jason. Don’t make this hard for me.’

Jason nodded meekly, his hand scratching a mark which had begun to bloom on his cheek. Nothing changes ever in reality, adults would always take advantage; at least Roman was rich huh? It wasn’t all bad.

Was it?

~~~~~~~~~~~

At the age of 14 Jason had grown into an almost man, stubble here, broad shoulders there; his overall stance was growing towards Roman’s and he would be tall for sure. The bookshelf stayed pretty much the same and books began to grow out of its very borders, a testament to Jason’s intellect which had meant he was top of the class. Proud was the word Roman had used, and almost as if Jason understood the irony of it his stomach swam whenever he thought of it. In all honesty, he had become quite settled, comfortable under the oppressive nature of Roman’s fatherhood. And perhaps alongside that he had become, a word he had never wished to be, sheltered; his cheeks flushed often, scratching the back of his neck with bitten nails. In return of Roman’s kindness, Jason worked hard, spoke politely but never lost his true self; Roman had always appreciated the rough edges of his boy. 

One particular winter Jason fell ill, ‘Some sort of street chest infection.’ the doctor had said. Jason’s small chest moved in a circle as he breathed in, the goosedown of Roman’s pillows comfortable on his warm cheeks and he was finally beginning to appreciate the quaint safety Roman’s penthouse in the cloud offered. 

Roman’s work normally finished around six and he had been alone all day. First, a bowl arrived full of soup, then a spoon and then - then Roman himself, his blazer hanging off one shoulder. ‘Jason, my boy.’ He was pulling off his gloves, he never did that, scarred skin which strung out in webs slowly appearing before Jason’s eyes. 

‘Sit up.’ And Jason did, his hips twisting under the sweaty sheets as he propped his body up against a pillow-covered headboard. 

Roman’s hand came to his chin and at this point, Jason didn’t wince, he only got hit if he misbehaved; the rules were clear and set. His other hand, which Jason watched out of the corner of his eye, picked up the spoon and dipped it into the liquid. A cascade of maroon liquid fell off of the silver as Roman tapped the bowl and then turned to Jason. Roman moved the spoon to Jason’s lips and Jason remained still.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Jason, you are ill and I am caring for you.’ Jason wanted to laugh in response, but his body ached with every deep breath he took.

Jason stared at the spoon. ‘We don’t normally do this.’ 

‘I am beginning to think that you don’t appreciate this.’ Roman put the spoon back to the bowl and sighed heavily, in some sort of paternal frustration.

Moving forwards at breakneck speed, Jason repeated his previous action; he was too ill to put up a fight this time. ‘No Roman, m’ - I’m sorry honestly and-’ his chest seized up as a coughing fit overtook, his throat closing off. When he felt Roman’s uneven hand on his back rubbing soft circles into his body, he let out a quiet sob and the crackle of his voice began to calm down.

Roman set him back down on the pillow and when the spoon returned to his lips, he opened obediently and let Roman pour it down into his throat. Soon he was leaning into Roman’s hands as each spoon elicited a new burst of flavour. In all honesty, he couldn’t remember what happened after the bowl was empty. Perhaps Jason turned over and Roman stayed, his hand feeling each strand of his boy’s hair; much softer now that he wasn’t pulling it. Perhaps Roman left him to sleep in peace. 

There was solace in not knowing the extent of one’s actions.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Roman had surprised himself, which he rarely ever did, buying new things for Jason had been fairly enjoyable. He was growing attached to the kid, perhaps a bit too much, and in the back of his head, he dwelled on whether Jason was becoming too much of a distraction.

Now, sat across from him, Jason seemed almost a man, if he forgot his illness a couple of weeks before Christmas. Jason had not only gone up but his waist had filled out, along with his ribs and it seemed as if his cheekbones had become less defined. Roman’s mind flicked back to their first meal together, Jason’s jumper hanging off him as he practically choked on his premier hot meal of the year. 

The turkey in the middle of the table was carved into slices and Jason greedily pulled some onto his plate, his love of gravy having not diminished at all since they first met. Roman cut his own food, placing a piece of meat into his mouth; although his ability to taste was basically gone, from the fire, he could appreciate the texture of the bird. 

As Jason emptied the china saucer of all the gravy, Roman raised an eyebrow. ‘Which would you rather inherit Jason? Janus chemicals or my F1 team?’

Jason looked up to him, his green eyes sparkling mischievously. ‘You want my honest answer?’

‘Of course.’

Jason’s cutlery scraped the plate, Roman only now noticing the paper crown which he had placed on top of his out of control hair. ‘I don’t really care.’

That answer should have infuriated him but for some reason it made sense. ‘In all honesty, I think you would be a shit CEO.’ 

‘Full of Christmas compliments as usual Roman.’ Jason was passing a roast potato around his mouth, his eyes locking with Roman’s in some sort of confrontational manner. 

Roman’s tone remained monotone as a woman poured a thick red into his crystal glass. His gloved fingers were wrapped around the fork as he speared a rosemary carrot and popped it past his blistered lips. 

‘What about F1?’

Roman felt his lips turn at the ends. 

Hook, line and sinker.

‘Why? Are you suddenly interested now?’

Jason continued to eat, ‘I mean it’s not a normal point of conversation in Crime Alley.’

Roman placed his fork down, sensing some sort of opportunity in the making, as he towards his boy.

‘You should come with me to the next race, it’s the end of the season this weekend.’ 

That had caught his attention and Jason’s fork echoed the clang which Roman’s had. ‘Really?’

‘Of course, consider it some sort of gift. You will have to travel by yourself though as I’m not here on Saturday so I will be flying to Bahrain from Metropolis.’

Jason was now spooning gravy from the saucer and placing said spoon directly into his mouth. ‘Where’s Barrr - ain?’

Roman chuckled softly, the timbre of his voice implying an adoration. ‘In the Arabian Gulf.’

‘Arabia!’ Jason’s mouth was strung together by gravy strands. ‘I’ve never left Gotham let alone the US?’ He seemed astonished or was it excited? Either way, it rumbled some emotion from inside Roman’s cold exterior. 

‘Well, you will be flying this weekend so you better prepare yourself. You should wear your presents to the race as you cannot be seen as your’, there was an awkward pause, ‘normal self, okay?’

There was silence for a second before Jason sucked in his bottom lip. ‘Okay.’

‘Okay.’

After their lunch, Roman watched Jason approach the plastic Christmas tree with enquiry; from the panoramic window, he could see all of Gotham alight with some sort of unnatural joy.

Roman moved to sit in his chair, it’s texture soft and worn. Jason was kneeling by the pile underneath the tree, his hands running over the gifts with soft intent.

‘Open them.’ 

‘What all of them?’ The whites of Jason’s eyes were pearly as his face remained in a state of shock.

‘I’ll take them away if you don’t want them?’ Roman pulled at one of his gloves, those phantom sizzling feelings had returned for a moment and the cool leather softened each spark.

And with that comment, Jason was practically ripping the paper like a savage dog. He held up the soft jumper and a look of happiness braced his adolescent composure. It was black with a strip of red around the collar, smart wear which Roman had been referring to earlier. The next present was a crisp shirt to go with the jumper, it’s white vibrance almost reflected Jason’s new life. 

Jason was shuffling around now, his hands reaching a small box-like package. Discarding the paper once more he grinned, although he would have preferred more Austen, as he ran his hands over the cover of Gatsby. He had never read it but now suddenly felt some sort of inspiration to race through all the pages at once. 

‘It’s a one time copy.’ Roman added, proud of his ability to read Jason’s mind.

Jason was struggling to remain composed. ‘I don’t know how to thank you, Roman, I -‘

‘Please don’t, you know how annoying you are when you’re soppy.’

Jason hadn’t heard his comment as he happily placed his book on top of the clothes. ‘There’s one more thing.’ Roman said, standing to leave the room. He returned with a black box that was about the size of a head. 

Roman had laid his line. Now all Jason had to do was bite. 

Jason looked ever so cautious as he lifted the box lid away, his eyes widening even more as he realised what Roman had bought him. 

It was red, glossy, like some sort of romantic kiss. Lifting it up Jason ran his hands over its smooth top, his mouth completely agape. He fiddled with the visor, flipping the thick sheet of plastic up and down over the gap which was normally filled with enthusiastic eyes and a nose. ‘Roman, is this really for me?’

Roman nodded shortly in agreement urging Jason to replace his crown with the new helmet, rather a fitting image really. Pulling the helmet over his head, Jason’s hair was squished flush to his eyebrows, the white streak flashing his green eyes. The visor flipped down with a click and for a second Jason’s arms flailed around as if he was being attacked. 

Roman laughed softly before leaning forwards and pulling the visor back up, clicking it into place with a subtle push of the thumb. ‘Let’s get this hair out of your face.’ Roman’s low voice rumbled once more, as leather brushed away Jason’s hair, pushing stray strands back to the sides of the helmet. As Jason shook his head to get rid of a certain level itchiness which had begun to set in, a clang sounded on the floor. Jason dangled the keys between a finger and a thumb.

‘Roman, what does all of this mean?’

‘I have been thinking about this issue for a while now and I have concluded that we all must mature as people-’

‘What does that even me-’

‘Do not interrupt me.’ Roman had raised one blistered eyebrow to threaten the boy in the helmet once more. ‘I may have asked you earlier but I have decided that you will make a good protege for my F1 team Jason and therefore I have bought you a flat in Monaco so you can begin your training.’

Jason looked afraid now, all the confidence which had possessed him at the table now gone completely. ‘Roman, I don’t know how to live by myself let alone drive a formula one car.’

Roman felt some empathy warming in his heart but he ripped it away coldly. ‘Yes, Jason and that is why I am giving you a year in Monaco to decide whether formula one is for you.’ He paused for a second, pulling the bottom of the helmet up so that Jason locked his eyes with him. ‘Son, I never want you to believe that you are being forced into a choice but I really do believe that F1 will grant you opportunities that will only improve your life.’

‘Really?’ Jason’s voice was soft, the red helmet still fit snug to his face.

Roman sighed as he leaned back into the chair. ‘Of course, why else would I do this to you?’

Jason’s nose wrinkled as his eyes seemed to appear more confident than before. ‘Because you want to get rid of me.’ 

There was a moment of silence.

‘Jason as a young man this is your chance to make a name for yourself.’ The young man sat on the carpet being only 14. Before he could say anything further Roman stood up. ‘You know I have work now.’ Jason nodded softly. ‘I will see you later then.’ The sound of Roman’s shoes clicking on the floor as he walked away was now a normal in Jason’s life.

As the door to Roman’s penthouse clicked shut, Jason wondered: if no one saw him cry, did it ever happen?

~~~~~~~~~~~

Saturday came earlier than Jason had expected, the rise of the sun feeling more ominous than ever. Pulling himself out of bed Jason threw an oversized hoodie on before struggling with a pair of black skinny jeans.

Pushing down a sick feeling, Jason swallowed a spoon of milk plucking the bowl to the side when he was done. Most mornings were like this: lonely. And to be honest Jason normally appreciated the silence but the fear of his flight to Bahrain was as present as the stink of leather and Roman.

The car was outside, he had been notified by some woman dressed in black, and he held his suitcase close to him as the lift descended down. He looked at himself in the mirror and almost wondered who he had become? Baggy clothes, his bones used to stick through his shirt. Never mind that thought, he grimaced as he pushed the idea away.

He spotted the car, opening the door with a click, stepping into the back of the car which was divided away from the driver. Jason considered whether he had to say anything but the car was moving as he relaxed back into the padded seat.

His headphones were tangled in a knot as his fingers slowly pried them apart. Pushing a bud into his ear he watched Gotham fly past, traffic, people, grime, richness, poverty and the airport was only ten minutes from all of it. Wheels rolling on the tarmac of the auto way he looked up to see a plane soaring high above, his stomach rumbled. 

The car left the roundabout at the first exit, merging into a lane made only for the airport. Jason squished his nose up against the tinted glass in an attempt to spot the sleek airport building; its glass shimmering in the Gotham morning sun.

Thanking the driver, he slipped out of the monochrome vehicle; his feet hit the pavement with a slap. The wheels of his suitcase were steady in the soft sound they made, feeling extremely self-conscious he scratched at his cheek. 

The airport was a confusing and terrifying place, reminding Jason of his life in Crime Alley; people rushing around, crying, shouting and fear. A family rushed past him and some sort of emotion had been conjured within his brain; perhaps it was the way the dad held the hand of that little charcoal haired boy.

Where was Roman?

‘Mr Todd, your boarding pass please.’ Jason was shocked back into reality; when had he walked over here? Never mind that, Jason sighed as he passed the little sheet of paper which Roman had given him. The woman scanned the pass before smiling back to him, ‘Have a good trip!’ 

He watched his suitcase drop off the end of the belt, something perplexed him about the way it dropped off so suddenly. Tightening the straps of his backpack, he continued to walk through the crowd looking to a flashing board of some sorts. Oh god, this was confusing: flight here, flight there, where the fuck was he meant to be going? Bah-rrain, Bah-rrrrrrain, flight E91670 highlighted itself on the board. 

A couple of people were staring at him, he definitely looked too young to be doing this; Jason felt smaller than Roman had ever made him feel, was this some sort of punishment for his bad behaviour. To some level Jason did consider himself an anxious person, Heatwaves; his favourite song began to sound in his ears, for sure he had become anxious. As a child he had never been scared, he’d seen people die for fucks sake but now feeling the expensive fabric on his skin he was scared. 

Who was he? 

The intercom overpowered the words.

_ late nights in the middle of June _

‘Flight E91670 to Bahrain is now boarding. Rows one to ten first please.’ 

His legs moved for him, approaching another woman in some sort of comical pencil skirt. ‘Welcome Mr Todd, are you flying alone today?’

_ heatwaves been freaking me out _

‘Yes.’

‘Do you mind me asking how old you are?’

Jason felt sudden nerves overcome him, everyone was staring! ‘14.’ He stated matter of factly. 

She smiled back, ‘Okay that’s all fine, one last thing. Due to your age, I need the name of your mum or dad.’ There was silence as Jason processed what she said in his busy mind. His stomach repulsed a the words slipped out of his mouth. ‘Roman Sionis.’

_ at night all i think about is you _

He noticed the slight quirk of her heavily blocked eyebrow. ‘Perfect, well have a good flight!’, before she gestured down towards some tube-like walkway. And the noise of the planes above was pounding in his ears, the music now having changed to Barracuda by Heart; did I mention the love for powerful women? Some part of his dumb brain wished that Roman was here to sneer and hurt him, for some reason that felt better than the unbridled freedom he had in this airport. Once more there was certainty in Roman’s...actions.

His seat was at the front of the plane, sectioned off from all the other people and that rubbed him the wrong way ever so slightly. Jason had never been one of the privileged ones and the way in which the cabin crew surrounded him with compliments and attention conveyed how Roman had made sure Jason was the most important person on the plane. He blushed slightly at the feeling of being wanted, his previous guilt and thoughts dissolving in a second.

Clicking the side of his ipod, Jason wasn’t allowed a phone, he pumped the song louder.

_ Won’t you, barracuda? _

He had to sit here for sixteen hours, luckily he had packed his new copy of Gatsby although he dwelled on whether it would last him the whole sixteen hours; Roman always complimented him on his reading speed. 

The plane shook ferociously, Jason’s knuckles white with fear as he leant back into his seat; the feeling of takeoff was one that Jason had definitely not expected. He bit his lip nervously, as the plane began to turn, squeezing his eyes tight. At some point he felt an urge to open them, stare out the window and watch Gotham become smaller and smaller and smaller. How small he was in the grand scheme of things. 

Once he had looked, Jason felt defiant of his fear, hands pressed against the plasticy window next to his seat; he felt sadness tug at him when the wing leveled out, concealing the view for the indefinite future. His nerves having been quelled ever so slightly settled deep in his stomach and Jason, having pulled his developing white strand away from his face, nodded his head to the snare of the song as it tailed out. 

Pulling his headphones out, Jason replaced them with the crisp copy of Gatsby. There was a ‘bing’ as a sign lit up above him, returning back to the illustration on the front of the book he traced the words slowly before turning the cover page. This should pass some time. 

And some time it did pass. Four hours had gone by and Jason had sat squirming, shifting his legs for what seemed like a while now; it was no offense to the book but his energy had not diminished yet. Turns out that he wouldn’t be able to just read for the entire flight and now with his mind absent he began to think of those dangerous thoughts which Jason had promised himself he wouldn’t.

Who was he? Jason Todd: son, ward, child who lives with Roman Sionis. Maybe ‘lived’ was too generous, ‘survived’ rang better in his head. But considering this he had missed Roman, wanted him there, stopped in his tracks at the sight of that small child and was having this very inner monologue which signalled that Jason needed him, wanted him, liked him? Embarrassment warmed his body, he loved the man who hit him. The very man who picked his confidence to shreds as a hobby. And in his mind he hated Roman, his physicality contradicted this, however. The seat he sat in represented Roman’s power, ‘for fuck sake Jason, you are on a plane to Bahrain just to please him’ he sneered to himself, feeling like a little obedient pup waiting for Roman to say ‘Good boy!’. 

That’s who he was, a little obedient street dog. 

‘Would you like curry or pasta for your lunch, Mr Todd?’ The flight attendant hauled him from the spiral staircase of thought. 

Jason masked his thoughts with a slight smirk and smile. ‘Curry ple-e-ase.’ He cringed at his own accent which poked through his speech ever so slightly, Roman had manufactured that complex as well. 

Soon a bowl was placed in front of him, a good spoonful of sauce and meat piled on top of a small mound of white rice. He took the wooden fork which he had found near his seat and pushed it around the bowl, making sure everything was thoroughly mixed together. Jason spooned some into his mouth, trying to forget what had been echoing throughout his mind, the chicken felt good on his teeth. The bowl was completely empty in around thirty minutes, Jason using his finger to scoop the last bits of sauce into his mouth; he felt slight joy at the fact Roman couldn’t tell him off. 

After lunch he returned to his book, racing through the passages at extreme speed, Jason had begun to notice some similarities between Gatsby and Roman himself.  Gatsby is a fabulously wealthy young man living in a Gothic mansion. He is famous for the lavish parties he throws every Saturday night, but no one knows where he comes from, what he does, or how he made his fortune. Roman was wealthy for sure, wasn’t a huge fan of parties, but the thing that struck Jason the most was how no one knew how he did it. Firstly, the chemicals company was inherited but the profit it made was double its counterparts and secondly, even more nefarious, his Formula One team ‘Janus Tech’ raked in huge profits each year whilst promoting extremely dangerous and degenerate behaviour; Roman often attracted the most immoral of all people, Jason counted himself in that. 

As he read on Jason worried for his own future, every day he became more like Roman. His very heart shuddered at the thought. He was a good person; he could never be like Roman, no matter how hard Roman tried.

Jason promised himself that. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

‘Hey darling, we’ve landed.’ There was a warm hand shaking his shoulder. When had he fallen asleep? Jason stretched out his limbs like a cat and rubbed his fists across his face, looking out of the window to see the airport runway and the sun high in the sky. Something was moving around his feet and he looked to see his copy of Gatsby slightly bent under his foot; Jason’s heart raced. Holding the copy to his chest, he tried to work out the long crease on the second page as he walked through another walkway towards the main building. 

It was Saturday meaning that race events had already begun and the airport was covered in long flags of various drivers and cars, walking through the airport he studied each one of their faces. Attractive? Mostly. Battered? Definitely. A sign to Jason that he should not let Roman force him into an F1 career? For sure. And spotting sight of one of the drivers holding a scarlet helmet he shivered, the reminder of how the helmet had squished his temples haunting him slightly. 

There was a man waiting for him, he held up a sign for Janus Tech, beckoning Jason forwards but not saying a word. The kid followed him, the wheels of his suitcase rolling evenly over the concrete of the car park. And once again he was being driven away from somewhere, the passivity of his journey as a whole beginning to irk him. However, as they neared the track, Jason began to feel the electric excitement of ‘race weekend’. People were walking towards the track, the colours of their shirts reflecting a plethora of different teams and people. 

And as the car passed Jason found himself counting everyone in red, pulling his hoodie off and replacing it with his black jumper with the red stripe on the collar. Looking in the reflection of the window he pulled the white of his shirt up over the jumper, adjusting his hair so that it was pushed back out of his face; Roman already hated the fact he was growing his hair out let alone when it hung forwards in his face.

The door was opened for him, jumping out into a fairly busy car park, the area which he had been dropped off was roped off from everyone else and suddenly a woman was next to him. She put a lanyard around his neck and Jason held it up to his eyes.

‘Jason Todd

Janus Tech’

Then she was moving, ‘Follow me.’ And he did, weaving through a wide street that was extremely crowded. People with cameras and microphones moved around like bugs swarming and at some point, Jason realised he was falling behind. His heart was on fire, where was she? Jason stopped for a moment, turning around in a circle; the white streak in his hair fell in front of his eyes. His hands were twisting in a knot as the fear of Roman’s disapproval began to rise in his stomach, churning around every previous worry.

A man flashed his lanyard at some official who let him walk through to a quiet area of this street, Jason’s eyes locked onto the official as he held his own lanyard tightly in his fist. Summoning up enough courage, he tried to ignore the overwhelming volume of everyone walking and talking around him.

Jason was now standing in front of the man, holding his head high he presented the lanyard and his heart jumped for joy when the man let him through to the quieter almost ‘backstreet’. His feet kept moving, his anxiety slightly subdued, looking to the small building on his right Jason read the words on the side of the building. ‘Central Mechanics.’ 

As he turned the corner, Jason found some people milling around several other buildings similar to the ‘Central Mechanics’ one. Jason bit his lip, he felt so lost, where was Roman?

This small backstreet was obviously a staff-only area, people here moved around slowly and peacefully, a safe haven for all for anyone important who found the main street too chaotic. Lanterns hung between the buildings ready for a weekend of partying, Jason had spotted the huge speakers which were being set up by the maintenance teams. 

He scrubbed his face with his hands, Jason wanted to smash his head into a brick wall, Roman was going to kill him; not if he killed himself first his thoughts screamed.

‘You okay kid.’ A smiley man to the right of him, dressed in a silver and black t-shirt, asked him. He was stood next to a man with blondish hair pulled back into some sort of ponytail.

Jason stared at them before stuttering, ‘Imma’ bit lost.’ His accent sounded thick in his own ears and he cringed at the sound.

The blonde-haired man approached him and looked to his lanyard, ‘If you’re looking for Janus drivers we are definitely not them.’ And in an almost epiphany like moment Jason’s memory flashed back to the airport, his eyes flashing to their passes. 

Oliver Queen and Barry Allen, champions of Central Mechanics, were standing right infront of him. Barry was the fastest of his day and Jason, for some reason found himself transfixed on the muscle of his arms, big and strong and oh my god Jason get a grip. Queen was also extremely attractive, now giving Jason that lopsided smirk which showed off a bunch of perfect teeth. Jason scratched his cheek slightly in awe at the two men before him who were both smiling at the tall fourteen-year-old. 

Barry spoke, ‘Who ya looking for?’ Jason froze at the thought. Roman, what should he tell them?

‘Um, my guardian.’ Jason said softly, his cheeks flushing a deeper red than before. 

Oliver raised an eyebrow, his hair hanging forwards just like Jason’s. ‘And that is?’

‘Roman Sionis.’ 

Both men stilled almost immediately, Jason observed the way they glanced at each other before turning back to the kid. ‘He will probably be in the Janus Hospitality Suite. Do you know where that is?’ 

Jason felt so embarrassed that he had managed to cock up following someone to Roman, he really was stupid. Barry almost sensing Jason’s anguish smiled kindly, ‘No worry. I can take you there now.’

‘Are you sure?’ Oliver’s eyebrows furrowed slightly.

Barry shrugged. ‘Yeah, I don’t have anything to be doing at the moment.’ He turned back to Jason. ‘Come on kid this way.’

Jason gave Queen a small wave before trotting after Barry, who was leading them down the lantern strung street. ‘I’ve got a son just about your age and he would not be able to deal with all of this, so don’t worry.’

Jason gave a little smile to that but kept his eyes on the floor. They walked for a further five minutes, Jason spotting each team's name he passed; Rushford, Metropolis Power, Fucco Ardante and more. Soon they reached a scarlet red building, the words Janus making Jason’s legs tremble, couldn’t he stay with Barry?

‘It's just in there.’ He pointed out. ‘Show them your lanyard and they will let you in.’ Barry stopped to observe the boy once more before sighing. ‘Have a good day.’

Jason watched him walk away and suddenly he felt two words fly from his mouth. ‘Good luck!’ 

Barry turned immediately winking at Jason before he continued back to Central Mechanics.

The stairs to the door made a rattling sound as Jason jumped up to them, taking one more deep breath before showing his lanyard to the official. As the door opened he could already feel the difference; it was freezing the sound of the air conditioning loud. Jason looked around to see a sleek desk and sofas, little coffee tables and everything covered in red gloss.

A woman stepped forwards to him. ‘Hi Jason, I will be looking after you this weekend, my name is Kate.’ She had big red hair and red lipstick which was slightly smudged on her teeth. ‘Mr Sionis is upstairs with the drivers if you would like to see him.’

Jason nodded before moving past her up the stairs to the second floor of the building. The door was large and heavy as Jason placed a hand on it, the sound of conversation coming from within. He pushed it open.

‘Jason, you made it.’ Roman was sat in a chair at the end of the table, his smile suggesting that maybe Jason wasn’t in trouble; one could never trust Roman fully though. ‘I was worrying that you were not going to make it to qualifying.’ Worrying, Jason wanted to laugh out loud at that word. 

Jason stood still, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. ‘Yeah, I gotta’ bit lost.’ Jason’s heart jumped at the pronunciation, noticing how Roman’s lips twitched slightly.

‘Sorry.’

Jason turned to look at the other two men in the room. ‘Let me introduce you to our drivers, Floyd’, the man in the corner raised a hand to Jason before looking away unenthusiastically, ‘and Slade.’ 

Jason turned to the man closer to him, white hair like snow and piercing blue eyes, he was absolutely massive. ‘It’s great to meet ya kid.’ His voice was gruff and low, something screamed danger in Jason’s very mind. The man raised an eyebrow at Jason.

‘Slade Wilson.’

~~~~~~~~~~~

‘I mean what I said.’ Wilson spat at Roy, someone was holding him back in fear of retaliation. There was crimson blood pouring from his nose. 

Jason grabbed Roy, putting himself between the redhead and his target. ‘Roy, don’t even go there. You have already done enough.’ Roy was red with anger, leading Jason to only question what Grant had done to make him so angry.

‘You and your scummy bitch are both unworthy of Queen’s support.’ Roy growled then, pushing against Jason who was struggling to hold Roy back. Jason was tempted to let Roy go, just to see Wilson’s fear when Roy attacked, but no, he was responsible and steady minded now. 

Jason was holding Roy’s head in his hands. ‘Don’t listen to him, he’s just trying to get you to react.’ And Roy was shaking with anger, the comment about the love of his life obviously too far. 

‘Roy fucking listen to me.’ Jason was now shouting and Roy did lock eyes with him. ‘He’s acting as they do okay, be the better person right now.’ Jason watched his green eyes as they began to clear, shaking his head Roy turned away not letting Grant get to him any further.

As Jason looked back to Gar Logan who was scolding Wilson for his stupidity, Jason grinned. 

Like father like son, huh. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos appreciated <3


	13. Longing and detestation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Roy's altercation with Grant Wilson, Jason does his best to make sure the last couple of days of testing run smoothly. However, the universe loves to throw up obstacles and Jason finds that his peace is easily disrupted. Dick makes a bad choice which eventually he will regret; solidifying your enemies is never a good idea, no matter the sphere. For Roman Sionis' jealousy cannot be contained no matter the person or force and yet the inevitable path of two lovers is - well - inevitable.
> 
> At least that it is how it seems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> I hope everyone has had a good new year and is staying as safe as possible. Another chapter of PPP and I do love this one - it has a lot of action in it. I will be getting into the races soon I promise! Races will probably start in a chapter or two. I would love to hear what you all think of these chapters and whether there is anything you would like to see.
> 
> Once more thanks to Bhav for editing this chapter as always and being a massive support!
> 
> Stay safe everybody <3
> 
> Trigger warning for implication of an eating disorder and homophobia.

Jason watched as a snake of smoke rose up into the air, the pumping of his heart was heavy in Jason’s ears. The cigarette felt almost warm against his tough lips; the sun was gone but the heat of the day lingered like some unfortunate smell. Roy had walked back to the hotel earlier, allowing Jason a well-needed break from the pounding of the party. He wished he could have stayed a tad later. Jason had planned to peer pressure Tim into doing some body shots but no Wilson had ruined it. Wilson always manages to ruin Jason’s plans. 

In all honesty, Jason remembered turning around the club to see that Timothy had left, it was probably the pale rookie’s bedtime. Jason held his hand to his eyes, smoke billowing out from his nose, it had been going so well. Fuck it, he couldn’t go back now. Something he had learnt over the past years was the need to move on. Jason’s milky thighs would be permanently cut up like cubes of raw meat and there was nothing he could do. The media would never forget how Jason reacted when he came 16th and perhaps he deserved that. Lastly, Jason’s slightly numbed mind slipped into a dark corner, the smell of leather would always raise his heart rate. Whatever.

Scrubbing the end of his cig out onto the floor, he abandoned the scene, walking forwards past a small street of hotel restaurants and team buildings. The warmth of the air dulled his mind slightly, the cig having also taken the edge off of his racing adrenaline. This track at Alicante was truly a pretty one, the tarmac sitting in the bottom of a valley of terracotta hills; the whole scene reminding Jason of mixed up mango sorbet. The hotel was just above the track, sitting beside the grandstand building, Jason tried to trace his finger to the top of the sleek building in order to find his room and respective balcony. 

Holding his hand in the air, in some sort of drunken state, Jason suddenly realised the sound of people just ahead of him; the small closed-off smoking area concealing their identity. Jason’s head cocked to the side, ‘smoking friends!’ his mind screamed. He almost skipped forwards at the ideal, turning the corner he stopped in his tracks at the scene.

Tim Drake was pushed up against a steel style bench, Conner Kent, his teammate of all people, was the one holding him there. God, what had he walked in one, the air between them was electric and Jason felt disgustingly tarred as they hadn’t seemed to notice him yet. Jason’s breath was stuck in his throat, Tim’s mouth was-, he was gay? So much for being numb, his feet stumbled backwards in an attempt to escape the awful tableau. And then to his continued horror, blue eyes locked with Jason’s and they were wide in fear.

‘I’m sorry.’ Jason tried to keep his jaw from hitting the floor. Tim was flushed completely red as Kon just looked to the floor, ‘I didn’t see anything don’t worry.’ And then he was moving so quickly, so goddam quickly and perhaps Tim ran after him pleading but Jason refused to hear it. The door to the hotel swung open violently, Jason hoped that the receptionists would ignore him; the wait for the elevator felt longer than it ever had before. Once inside his room, Jason held his head in his large hands, moving to look out the window to where _everything_ had just occurred. Pulling his box of cigarettes out of his pocket he winced at the sound of nothing within the pack itself. 

The sound of water dripping down onto the tiled floor of his shower was rhythmic, allowing his mind to focus on the simplicity of water falling and not the way in which Kon’s hands had wrapped around Tim’s back; he worried for a second about wasting water, having had a bath just before going out to the club. Jason’s head snapped to the side, watching himself in the mirror with complete denial. He had stood there and watched as they had kissed; Jason was a pervert for sure. Perhaps if he buried the thought deep down into his subconscious he could forget it.

The cold water took the edge off his anxiety once more, as a child Jason had wondered whether he would slowly transform into his father but Jason noted as his back slid down the wall to sit on the tiles that Roman would never be this anxious. His busy mind flicked back to Roy’s actions in the club, he hoped that no one would rat to the press or Roy could be scolded for hitting the white-haired twat. And then his mind wandered to Tim’s soft face and the way in which Kon had watched Tim’s lips in the cafeteria; a slight sense of foreboding hit him as Tim once more flashed in his head.

Turning the water off, Jason wrung the moisture out of his hair and slipped between the soft cotton of his bedsheets. For a second, he thought he might cry for Tim, the image much more triggering than Jason had foreseen; his eyes rolling back into his head as he thought of the times in which a young Jason had grappled with the ideals of his own sexuality. The memory of Roman’s shock when he had caught Jason masturbating to an image of Barry Allen, Central Mechanics champion and even more embarrassing Wally’s dad, a man who had shown him great kindness when he was in a time of need; also a man with huge arms and hands. Perhaps he could emphasise with the Metropolis Power rookie but the feeling of his eyelids drooping saved him from exploring his memories any longer.

~~~~~~~~~~~

**S** ****

_Hey birdie, wanna come to Alicante? Flight leaves at 6 am. See you there._

~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the third day of testing and the cantine was once again bustling with drivers and what seemed like engineers. Jason had dragged himself downstairs, his head thrumming with thoughts from the night before. Moving across to the buffet bar, ignoring human contact for a couple more pristine seconds, Jason grabbed two pieces of toast and a bowl of fruit salad.

‘Morning sleepyhead.’ Zachary leant forwards on the table Jason was walking towards, he once more looked perfect as ever. Jason grunted in return, sitting down next to Roy who looked just as exhausted as his teammate. 

Jason looked to the seats next to Zachary, which were completely empty, ‘Where are Garth and Kaldur?’.

‘They are doing photo rounds.’ Jason shivered at the reminder of the sessions where the photos to be used all season were taken. 

Looking at Roy, Jason groaned loudly. ‘We both look like shit.’ Silently Roy nodded his head in agreeance. 

Zachary flicked his wrist around in boredom: ‘And Wally and Victor are out on a run.’ They sat in a joint pause for a moment, Jason loudly slurping fruit juice from his large spoon; the dark-haired Outlaw driver felt relieved to have a small portion of peace before being launched into a day of narcissistic self-involvement. 

‘Todd, can I talk to you?’ Jason watched Roy’s ponytail swish as he turned to look at the man speaking, Jason didn’t recognise his voice. Shifting his hips around, Jason felt his heart drop as he saw who was asking him the question.

Fuck.

~~~~~~~~~~~

‘You have to talk to him!’ Tim Drake was pacing up and down next to the window of his hotel room, the smoking section down below ominously staring back at Tim. The green of Tim’s t-shirt juxtaposed the white of his terrified face, Kon noting that the rookie driver always looked smaller when he was scared.

Kon tilted his head back in frustration, ‘Why me?’, his eyes watching Tim with soft consideration. 

Tim held his hands to his face in desperation and he stopped pacing. ‘Because if Lex finds out I’m getting friendly with Jason, he will kill me. And I mean _kill_ me.’ His eyes looked up as he remembered the phone call from the night before; Lex had shouted down the phone at Tim, reminding him that Jason was simply someone the rookie could not be friends with. Tim’s mind raced at the memory, he wasn’t stupid, someone had been snitching to Lex and that someone had white-snow hair and an uncontrollable temper.

Kon shook his brain free of any stubbornness and nodded to Tim, watching colour rush back to his pale face as relief flooded him. ‘Thanks.’

Kon remembered the way Tim had grabbed him out of nowhere, pulling him into a kiss which felt so liberating that for a second they both forgot every limiting factor in their entire lives. ‘No problem.’

~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun was warm on Jason’s cheeks as he stood outside the cantine with Conner Kent, he found himself avoiding the Metropolis driver’s gaze; a feeling of guilt churning up in his deep stomach. The image of the night before flashed up in his mind, tasting fruit juice still around his lips, Kon had walked him out of the busy cantine to an outdoors area where no one would walk past and now they stood in an awkward silence about three metres from each other. 

‘I just want to say-’

Jason felt words spewing out of his mouth suddenly, interrupting the younger driver. ‘Look Kon- Conner?’, he tripped on what _he_ was allowed to call the other man, ‘I didn’t see anything, okay? I ain't no snitch.’

Kon looked at his hands and then brought his hand to the back of his neck, Jason could recognise nervous ticks; when Jason was younger he would always scratch his cheek to hide his fear. 

Jason felt some sort of tugging at his heart and wondered to himself why the fuck all these young drivers remind him of a young himself. ‘Just be careful.’ Jason met Kon’s eyes with sudden self-confidence; he could be the one to help this time. ‘People in this sport are not very accepting but’, Jason took a breath, ‘if you need to talk to someone then I am here.’

Jason turned to walk away before looking back to Kon, ‘Also keep an eye on Tim, he looks ill.’

_‘I’m a good person’_ Jason thought to himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~

‘They threw your toast out.’ Roy was waiting for Jason to return, Zachary having slipped away probably towards the pits. 

‘In all honesty, that is the least stressful thing I have experienced this morning.’

For a second, Roy’s guilty green eyes looked up to him. ‘You okay?’

Jason shrugged in reply as Roy stood up, now waking together towards the back of their garage; normally on a race weekend the drivers would report to a concierge building but as it was testing they were limited to squeezing the whole team into two garages.

‘I’m still pissed off with you.’ Jason sighed as they squeezed past a group of mechanics talking in a small corridor.

Roy smiled at Jason, his sharp canines evoking some memory within him, ‘That’s fair.’ 

‘But I will be nice to you because the media have full access to everything today and I want them to see our normal relationship, our relationship when you haven’t punched someone the night before.’

Roy laughed softly: ‘I think my actions were justified.’

Jason refused to answer the question but raised his eyebrows. Someone smart had once told him that ‘actions spoke louder than words’ and this seemed the most appropriate time to do so. Whatever, deep down Jason felt admiration for Roy but with cameras appearing in the distance Jason was reminded of the issue Roy had created.

‘Let’s just get this over with.’

In reality, because of the open door-slash-garage policy for the media fucksesh, Jason and Roy found Babs, Cass, Steph and Kori huddled in the corner of the garage with their backs to the flashes of a couple of stubborn photographers. Jason caught one of the men’s stare and watched as in a second the flashing increased hugely from a click to constant flashing. His brain itched slightly, having to force his hand down as he was tempted to flip off the two middle-aged guys; protectiveness was surging up into his chest.

They joined the huddle, all four of the women becoming silent suddenly, ‘Morning.’ Jason hummed under his breath, he reached up to scratch his cheek as the awkward silence continued further; he needed a new pack of cigs, would he be able to go out and buy another pack? 

The look in Bab’s eyes said it all. You see, having lived with Roman Jason could determine what an angry person looked like and Babs screamed ‘I’m fucking pissed off.’ 

‘You are very lucky that Kori managed to calm the Janus management down otherwise we would have been fucked.’ The freckles which splattered her skin reminded Jason of some sort of gorgeous constellation; no wonder Dick had loved her. 

What? Where had that thought come from?

Looking to the group Jason noticed that they were all staring at him. ‘Am I meant to be talking right now?’ The noise of the flashing in the background had died down and Jason’s thoughts were clearing slowly.

Babs let out a long sigh and cocked her head at Jason. ‘The car needs work so go get your photos done now.’ She had seemed to have given up, her back slumping into the chrome of the chair. ‘And please for the love of God, behave.’

Roy and Jason stumbled away from the group, their tails between their legs, like two schoolboys who had been given detention. It felt fitting as they were banished away to the punishment that was team and individual photoshoots; Jason’s self-confidence always plummeted as he stood on the black cross marking his spot for each obsessive pose.

Jason was good at taking punishment but this felt unfair, he hadn’t even done anything wrong; the image of Tim and Conner Kent fizzled into his mind.

Had he? 

~~~~~~~~~~~

‘I knew you’d be in here.’ Dick’s voice was silky soft as he floated into Bruce’s study, the bookshelves dark spruce reflecting Gotham perfectly. 

Bruce looked up towards him, taking a break from a pile of paperwork, his oldest son looking strangely dressed up. ‘Hmmm.’ 

‘Don’t grunt at me.’ Dick played with a loose thread on his own shirt. ‘Damian is waiting for you in the conservatory.’ 

Bruce sighed loudly, looking back down to the pile which he had been slowly working away at, ‘Tell him to start without me.’

‘I have already told him that-’

‘And?’

‘He refused to listen.’ Dick looked frustrated himself at Bruce’s nonchalant attitude, leaning against Bruce’s dark wood desk. ‘Father must come now otherwise there is no purpose to draw at all.’ His lips curled up as he mimicked the youngest within the house.

‘And where are _you_ going?’ Bruce watched as Dick’s eyes flashed slightly at the question, it was the game they played. Dick pushed the boundaries, Bruce allowed it but layed down the law when he believed Dick was in danger; they luckily didn’t get to that point often.

Dick smiled at Bruce, his blue eyes pleading with his father, ‘I am going to Alicante.’

‘With Barbara?’ Bruce felt a slight warmth at Dick being actually interested in one of his ventures. And then suddenly that smile began to make sense and Bruce felt anxiousness set in.

‘With Slade.’

‘No.’ Bruce snapped.

‘Bruce, I can look after myself.’ This was an argument Bruce and Dick had every single year and this reprise was no different from the first couple of times.

‘Wilson is a bad person with bad intentions.’

‘I’m not going to sleep with him!’ Dick shouted out what they had both been thinking.

Bruce rubbed his palm across his now stoney face. ‘I just worry you will work yourself into an inescapable situation.’

Dick stood still, staring his father down before going to open his mouth. ‘I-’

‘Father?’ Damian was stood at the door, smiling Dick realised how much Damian had grown in the last week, he looked more like Bruce every single day.

Bruce nodded to Damian. ‘I’m coming now.’ And as he stood up, Bruce caught Dick’s gaze.

‘Be safe, son.’

‘I will.’

~~~~~~~~~~~

The room the pair had found themselves in was completely white, rolled up background sheets had been painted with block saturated colours and Tim watched an intern with pink hair struggle with a ring pull which was attached to a large screen. She fixed the ring pull to a small metal clip on the ground and smiled as she stepped back, pleased to have finally beaten the green screen. 

Tim’s heart jumped as he felt a hand grab his bicep but the touch itself was soft in a way which signposted that it could only be Conner. His mind flicked to Jason’s face as he had stood there, the light of the floodlights lit up half of his angular face and his lips had been parted in a visible ‘oh’. Tim tried to bury the thought within his mind and looking to where Kon’s hand met his own muscle he felt a slight blooming within his soul. 

‘ _Why did you do it?’_ Janet was screaming within Tim’s brain, her voice shrill and painful to his tender confidence. _‘That street rat is going to tell them about your disgusting actions and consequently, you will be fired, becoming the failure I always knew you were going to be.’_

‘Pathetic.’

No, Tim hadn’t been pathetic, his mind thought back, he had been assertive, confident and sadistically manipulative; all the things that Janet had trained him to be.

~~~~~~~~~~~

_The club had been loud, new and overall not-Tim; the lights flashed every other second and Tim flinched slightly as an aux cord was plugged in. The sound screeched in his ears. Kon stood in the corner, his shirt was unbuttoned at the top and Tim was ashamed to have noticed that small but oh so significant detail. Grant was standing next to him, his white hair widely loose and stark against the dark walls, Tim’s stomach churned at the sight; Grant had told Lex about Jason. Grant was a complete and utter dickhead._

_Everyone else was stood around in a circle, the old group of karters having created their own insular clique which made Tim feel even more insecure than ever as he sat by himself at the bar. Spinning on his stool, he decided that being sober was not the right way to tackle the evening. As he ordered his drink, in a soft and tender voice, Grant appeared next to him in a flash._

_‘Do you ever eat anything? You’re like a skeleton.’ There was a slight growl to Grant’s voice which evoked anger within Tim. Only he could make comments about his own state; the fact that this dick had decided to try and hold that power over him was completely intrusive._

_Tim shook his head as he downed his shot of tequila, noting the vodka and coke in Grant’s hands, ‘Can you just fuck off?’ A wave of sudden anger had begun to boil deep in his stomach._

_‘Watch your language bitch or I will run and tell your daddy you’ve been bad again.’ There was the slightest slur to Grant’s words but Tim didn’t feel sympathetic; alcohol and anger mixing as he chewed on the side of his cheek._

_Kon had noticed them and was walking over now. ‘You know nothing about me.’ Tim spat back at Grant, the summation of years of repression by men and women similar to Grant being released upon the angry driver._

_Grant seemed ever so slightly shocked at Tim’s tone, having turned from timid to bitter in a second, he moved forwards into Tim’s space; Conner had reached the scene at this point. ‘I know enough.’ Grant snarled._

_For a second Tim considered fighting back but he stood up from his stall, Jason Todd and Roy Harper had just walked in, ‘I’m leaving.’_

_‘Pussy.’ Grant grinned as he finished his glass, Tim wondered about the speed the vodka would hit his bloodstream._

_The outside granted Tim a break, how dare Grant comment on him as if he knew everything, was Tim really that transparent? As shallow as Janet had hoped? How come Tim allowed Grant to use Lex as a form of control?_

_Tim threw his head back with a groan; for all of his life he had complied but for some reason now, in the Spanish heat, he felt the need to break free of every single comment they had made. And looking over his shoulder Tim recognised the perfect form of rebellion against himself, Grant, Janet and Lex; perfect Kon who had followed him out to protect him from any other sadness._

_‘Kiss me.’_

_‘What?’_

_‘You heard me. Kiss me.’_

~~~~~~~~~~~

‘M’kay darlings, stand on the two crosses for me.’ Jason and Roy placed their feet on the black tape crosses which the Italian photographer had laid out for them. Jason pulled the arms of the black and blue suit up over his shoulders, watching Roy who had tied the arms around his hips. 

‘Now, turn to face me’, She looked down at her sheet of names, spotting the number 13 on Jason’s suit, ‘Jason.’ He pivoted on his heels towards her. ‘Stahp!’ She shouted as he reached 2 o'clock, looking up to find Tim and Conner pulling their sparkling green suits on; were they following him? ‘Now stay completely still.’ She ran forwards to him, in her small hand was a dark comb and without asking she reached up and ran it through Jason’s loose hair. Jason’s eyes met Roy’s, who was staring at how the woman was reaching up on her tippy toes; ‘You drivers get taller every single year.’ Her accent was strong, landing like some sort of citrus fruit in Jason’s ear; is that what he sounded like to other people?

Jason smiled at her, tipping his head to one side. ‘Don’t move!’ She shouted, waving her hands around in the air as she ran back to push that troublesome white-stripe back into place. 

‘Yes ma'am.’ Jason laughed to Roy, who was subduing a giggle of his own. She then spun almost immediately, her boots were platformed by chunky heels and they had squeaked slightly as she had turned. Red flushed her face when she saw Roy, his hair pulled up into a messy top-knot and his white shirt on show to her. ‘Mio Dio!’ She sighed reaching forwards to zip his suit up to the top, her hand falling on Roy’s broad chest as she did. And suddenly she moved in a flash to behind Roy, pulling his fiery hair out of the knot and savagely brushing it out. 

Roy winced loudly as his head was yanked backwards, ‘You drivers always pretend to be men but in reality, you are just boys who can’t even brush your own hair.’ She twisted the top of his hair between two fingers before tying it with a discrete hairband; stepping back she observed both of them, nodding to herself in satisfaction. 

‘Right double shots no-helmets first, helmets second, single still shots and then moving shots for the starting credits.’ Jason’s mind flicked to the beginning sequence before every race; each driver having their own five seconds to stare dramatically into the camera. She fiddled with her camera lens as Jason cringed at the thought of what pose he would strike. 

‘Ready?’ 

‘Yep.’ They both answered in unison, holding position on the black crosses. 

Jason lifted his chin up slightly, hoping that the camera would capture the sturdiness of his bones rather than the deep darkness of his eyes. Roy had his strong arms crossed across his chest, contradicting the way Jason’s hands hung by his side; they looked strong in their own sort of way Jason hoped. 

_‘Click’._ Her slender fingers moved around the camera, Jason noticed a silver band across her finger; marriage seemed so final, impossible for someone with such a fast-moving life, a life like his.

Tim and Conner were now being adjusted by a different photographer, Tim shuffled his feet nervously over the cross; a trait that had become fairly symbolic of Tim as a whole. 

‘Jason, look at me.’ She waved at him, his head snapped over quickly and as he reached her gaze the camera clicked loudly. 

The woman brushed her hair out of her face, stepping back to admire the picture she had taken she held her hand to her mouth. The photographer beckoned her colleague over and Jason’s nerves jumped hugely as she did. They were going to laugh at how dumb he looked. 

Her friend gasped out loud before looking back up to Jason and racking her eyes down his body. ‘Have you ever considered bein’ a model doll?’ The switch from Italian to deep Southern accent shocked Jason hugely. 

There was a soft chuckling sound emerging from Roy, his cheeks red with joy and happiness; somehow an image of Lian began to emerge within Jason. ‘When can I have my cigarette break?’ Jason sighed holding his head in his hands; fuck, he remembered the sound of his empty pack. 

The Southern photographer skipped back to an awkward looking Metropolis Power team as the Italian woman, who had grown a huge affection for both Roy and Jason, ran over to them with their helmets. ‘Right, hold them on your inner hip.’

Jason felt a slight bubbling embarrassment at being the centre of attention or was it pleasure at having people tell him he was pretty? Either way, it summoned some sort of emotion within him. ‘I’m still annoyed at you.’ Jason half-whispered, half-shouted.

Roy cocked his head at Jason, looking like some little red-headed puppy. ‘Sure, pretty boy.’

‘I would slap you if I could.’ 

‘Okay, Grant Wilson?’ Roy teased but for some reason being compared to the aggressive Janus driver, ironic he noted, rubbed him the wrong way. 

They both looked ahead to see the photographer, shaking her head. ‘You guys are impossible, just look this way okay?’

Both drivers stood still, Jason gripping the midnight blue helmet between his palm and his side. ‘ _Click’, ‘Click’, ‘Click’._

‘Bello.’ She murmured to herself before gesturing for Roy to move away. ‘Okay, Jason darling, you just stand there and look pretty.’ Her fingers fiddled with the camera once more and she examined Jason’s face in preparation for the headshot. ‘You look great. Any questions before we go ahead?’

‘No.’

‘Gre-’

‘What pose should I do?’

She laughed softly, luckily Roy had wondered to walk through the large room; he was examining a painting of some guy on a motorbike which had been placed on the wall. ‘How about you just look at the camera and I choose the best one?’

Jason nodded, his white strand obediently staying in place as he tipped his head forwards; the Outlaw driver loved people who made decisions for him.

Looking straight into the camera, Jason took a deep breath and heard the camera click multiple times. Her eyes appeared from the lense, lifting a thumbs up into the air. ‘Now I need you to do some sort of movement which leads into the camera.’

Jason’s mind screamed at the arrival of his inevitable demise; panic was beginning to set in. In the back of his mind, he had an idea. _‘They say you’re gorgeous so just turn your head and look into the camera.’_ And within his mind he remembered the way Dick had looked on the night of the gala, standing in the doorway with grace and power. Just act like Dick.

‘Okay, I will count down and then move.’ And as the numbers began to move down Jason worked on removing every single insecurity that people had sewed deep into the fertile ground of his brain.

‘Go!’

Jaso turned his head from the side straight into the camera and as he did the white strand of his hair fell forwards to flop just over his right eyebrow. At the feeling, he felt a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

There was silence and then the woman was grinning and clapping and hugging Jason all at once. ‘Magnifico, Ragazzo Bello!’ 

Jason quietly moved to the side letting Roy take his place and as he stood watching Roy charm his way into the Italians heart he smiled to himself.

_‘Magnifico pretty boy, you’ve done it again._

~~~~~~~~~~~

Dick Grayson was late, as always, charging through Gotham airport as his leather suitcase dragged behind him. ‘Hey!’ He shouted as a skinny air hostess went to close the door to the tunnel. Arriving at the desk, he was bouncing on his feet, confused as to why the woman hadn’t opened the door back up. 

‘I’m sorry sir but the flight is already delayed and it must leave.’ 

Dick’s mouth hung open in shock, Slade was on the plane and expecting Dick to show; how was he going to work himself out of this? ‘Come on, the plane is still there so surely I can get on?’

She shook her hair curtly. ‘No Sir, as I have already stated the plane must go.’ 

Dick’s eyes stared into the woman before him, his mind flicking to the very last resort; well there was no other choice.

‘Do you know who I am?’ Dick smiled with a firm tone, the woman’s eyebrows raised at the outrageous question. ‘I am Richard Grayson-Wayne, my father financed this wing of the airport!’. He gestured around to the sparkling new section of Gotham Central Airport, which had been an utter dump until Bruce had saved it.

The hostess took a double-take, realisation dawning on her face. ‘I am so sorry Mr Grayson - Wayne.’ She grabbed the phone from its plastic holder and held it to her ear, pleading for the crew to let Dick on. 

For a second Dick felt guilty for using his power over her but the guilt dissolved as she pulled the door open with a shove gesturing Dick through to the front of the plane. 

The crew welcomed him aboard with smiles, the rest of the passengers staring angrily into Dick’s head; luckily Dick was for the most part unaware of everyone else in his life. Shuffling past a couple of seats Dick spotted Slade, dropping down into the seat next to him.

‘You’re a late pretty bird and I’m hardly surprised.’ Slade smiled, his voice was a soft baritone which reminded him of Bruce but with a bit more growl.

Dick pushed his suitcase up above him before pulling the seat belt over his lap. ‘You know me, I had to make a dramatic entrance.’ He glanced over to the man next to him who, as always, was staring in some sort of passive nature which screamed hunger over anything else. 

Slade Wilson was a man of complicated origins, complicated emotions, complicated aims; he was just complicated overall and perhaps that was what entranced Dick. For you see Dick had met him as a boy; Bruce had always taken an interest in Formula One, hosting Gala’s every year in which drivers and backers would join together to celebrate the beginning of the season. As a young soot-haired child Dick had been captivated by Slade’s stance, steely eyes which had picked him out of the busy crowd, watching his every single step across chiselled marble. Adding to his growing rapture Slade was also an F1 driver: dangerous, dramatic and rich, attracting every inch of Dick further towards the growing swell which was Slade Wilson. So, to find himself between Slade Wilson’s teenage daughter’s legs, after a night in Monaco, was an action which had forever bound Dick Grayson to the snow-haired man. 

‘You’re day-dreaming kid.’ Slade’s voice made Dick’s very spine vibrate; similar to the feeling of the plane taking off. Slade’s hands were calloused as they thumbed over the page of a book, a collage of scars fluttering up across the back of his palms. ‘You’ve been avoiding me.’ His hand was resting on Dick’s thigh; a sign of parental care? Or was it a threat? Either way, Dick felt the need for an answer hanging in the air.

Searching his mind for the best way to word ‘my dad thinks you are a weirdo’ Dick sucked on his tongue for a second: ‘We are both busy adults Slade.’ There was a moment of silence which obviously represented Slade’s rejection of Dick’s answer.

‘It doesn’t matter. I know how to lure you back.’ The rest of the people on the plane didn’t seem to deter Slade from reaching forwards to hold Dick’s chin between a couple of fingers; Dick’s heart stilled and it seemed to mirror the sound of the plane as it reached cruising height. Dick had been so heavily focused on the way Slade talked that he hadn’t realised the plane had climaxed to its peak. 

Dick felt his stomach turn at the comment, the blue of Slade’s eyes much colder than Dick’s, a slight shame settled in the pit of his being; no matter how hard he tried, Dick always found himself eating out of Slade’s hand. ‘You will always be your father’s son; it’s not your fault you love money so much.’ Slade turned back to his book as Dick took a deep breath in, the comment that had been made striking him face on.

Throwing his head back against the airplane seat Dick watched Slade out of the corner of his eye, he was wearing a formal shirt; was he meeting anyone in Spain? Dick considered asking, the words dancing on his tongue, but chose against it. It would be more interesting for Dick to investigate himself, Slade knew this, otherwise, he wouldn’t have left Dick so many clues; the shirt, the free tickets, the F1 testing event which was most definitely exclusive.

‘So how is everyone?’ Dick broke the soft silence, fiddling with a curly piece of dark hair which hung around his ears, his mind flipping to a girl with a long white ponytail.

Slade sighed, family was not his supposed ‘cup-of-tea’, closing the cover of his book and deciding that he wouldn't be able to read with a talkative Dick Grayson next to him. ‘Well I am visiting Grant this weekend: he is racing for Janus Tech. Why did you decide to come along pretty bird?’

‘Nuh-uh.’ Dick wagged his finger in the air. ‘You didn’t answer the question, Slade. So let’s start again: how is everyone?’ A large grin reached across Dick’s face as he realised he had Slade back into the corner.

Slade’s eyebrows raised up in response, an air hostess rattled past them with some sort of food trolley, he looked ever so slightly annoyed. ‘Grant has been doing well over the past couple years and he has finally been given his deserved seat within Janus.’

‘How old is he now?’

‘I don’t know.’ Slade remarked nonchalantly, he really did not care hugely, ‘21 maybe.’ Dick felt sympathy for Grant, Dick had been luckily blessed with two good fathers who had shaped him into a generally good human; but honestly, Slade wasn’t a good person so Grant would have been lost either way.

Dick smiled towards Slade, ‘and what does Adelaine think?’ remembering the dark-haired woman from Vietnam who Slade had fallen for; she had mothered all three of Slade’s children. 

Slade looked genuinely confused, letting a soft laugh escape his mouth. ‘Her opinion does not matter.’ The tone of his voice hurt Dick’s, very heart.

Dick shook his head about, trying to clear his mind of that horrid feeling. ‘But you love her?’ He always classed himself as a romantic type, Dick made sure to care for those he admired and for sure he believed in true love; perhaps it was possible for a billionaire's son, who could get anyone, to believe that there was one person out there for them. 

Slade jolted him out of his romantic spiralling. ‘I never loved _Adie_ .’ He was shaking his head in a way which suggested an inside joke or something that Dick simply did not understand; which was true to an extent. ‘I loved _fucking_ her, and I loved _flirting_ with her but I never loved _her._ ’ Dick chewed at his lip: how could he say such a cruel thing? ‘She was and still is a constant pain in the back of my neck; our children are only a representation of that.’

Dick pawed at Slade’s large bicep. ‘Your children love you, Slade. They are desperate for your attention and would be pained to hear you say such a thing.’

Slade’s one hand gripped Dick’s soft one, squeezing it tightly in some sort of threatening manner. ‘And my dearest Dick, I never wanted them and I still do not.’ Slade’s hand withdrew from Dick’s hand to scrape at his short white beard. ‘I knew I would be an awful father and so honestly, all my children were mistakes of Adie and I was trying to have a good time.’

During Slade’s speech, Dick had taken a free hot cocoa from the hostess, sipping at the hot liquid in order to try and distract himself from his aching heart; Slade having once more broken Dick’s trust in humanity's ability to love as a whole. ‘And what of Rose?’

‘We aren’t on talking terms. She decided to fuck off to Peru for a year after we had a massive blow-up about something or other.’ Slade watched to see whether Dick would react to Rose, who he had fallen for on that one lucky night, Dick’s lips quirked up slightly at the sound of her safety; she was better off without Slade.

‘And Joseph?’ Dick’s mind flicked to the youngest Wilson who had hair like sheep’s wool; so soft to the touch. 

Slade rolled his eyes, showing his opinion of the youngest, ‘Literally not talking. His speech therapy hasn’t changed anything.’ Oh yes, Joseph was mute due to the accident; Dick knew Slade felt responsible for his son’s state, he could see it in those cynical ice eyes. Dick opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by the gravel of the older man’s voice: ‘And now I have answered all of your questions it is time to answer my question. Why did you decide to come with me?’

Dick grinned, realising that Slade had flipped the interrogation onto him. Time to bite the bait.

‘My father’s new F1 team - well a member of my father’s F1 team has intrigued me and I wish to see him in action - alongside the crew of course.’ Dick could play the dumb bachelor role perfectly.

‘Which one Harper or Todd?’ Jealousy dripped from Slade’s voice, he couldn’t hide his true feelings from Dick.

Dick wondered whether he should reveal his interest, looking into Slade’s icy blue eyes he decided against it, Slade was too dangerous to trust; he already knew too much about Dick’s love life anyway. ‘I will leave you to figure that out.’ 

Wiping the hot chocolate foam from the top of his lip Dick turned to look away from Slade, letting the silence play out for a second, ‘Don’t worry, you will have my full attention this weekend.’ Slade let out a large sigh, Dick’s eyes landing on the clipped sides of his grey-white hair, leaning back to relax into his seat.

Slade screamed possessiveness and Dick eyed up the large muscle of his biceps, the forbidden words which hung between them. ‘I always have your full attention, Dick Grayson.’ Dick’s muscles froze at the feeling of Slade scanning his face, his gaze settling on Dick’s lips; Slade Wilson was a dangerous man and he reminded himself of that as he repressed a dangerous fluster. 

For some particular reason, Dick felt sick to the stomach; he didn’t want to talk anymore. Luckily, the sun was beginning to disappear and the light, dipping down now, made Dick wonder if it had decided to rescue him personally. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

After the photoshoot, Jason had made his way back to the garage, Steph waving to Jason as he circled over to Cass, Cass’ dark hair was bobbing around as she leaned over a computer. ‘How’d it go?’ Stephanie asked him, her hand was rubbing Cass’ back in kind and gentle circles.

‘It went fine.’ Jason smiled at Steph, leaning against the bench Cass was working at, he looked to Cass’s hands. She was drawing around what looked like an engine, it had Wayne Enterprise branded parts, Jason’s mind flicked to an image of Dick; Jason wished that Dick would care for him as Steph did for Cass. The blonde woman looked to her phone, chewing at her bottom lip, ‘Roy has a conference so it’s just you driving for today.’Jason felt a smile tugging at his lips.

‘We managed to fix the engine problem.’ Cass turned to lock eyes with Jason. ‘Luckily, Babs knows the unit so well. She was able to find the fault in seconds.’ The quiet girl pointed to the drawing she had made: ‘It was the compression cap but we have replaced it.’ Jason nodded slowly, he didn’t really understand but pride swelled in his chest at the confidence which Cass displayed.

Jason’s helmet was between his hip and his arm, having carried it over from the shoot, it’s blue sheen glimmering under the cold garage lighting. Placing it down on the workbench, Steph ran her delicate hands over the top of the visor, some emotion stirred within Jason at the image of another touching their dirty muffs to _his_ helmet. Turning to look over his shoulder Jason noticed Barbara moving towards them, her Outlaw Sport t-shirt had no creases and fit snug around her waist, she seemed tired; the bags under her eyes made Jason feel sympathy for her and the hours she would have spent worrying about Roy’s actions. 

‘Jason, can you get ready?’ She was talking to him now, looking at the amount of press who had gathered in order to picture the Outlaw car finally leaving the garage. Jason nodded as he pulled the zip of his suit up and pulled a black balaclava, which was also branded with the words ‘Wayne Enterprises’ on the side, over his fluffy hair. He pushed the sticking out strands of his hair back up under the soft fabric, hearing people begin to work on the car as it was brought to animated life. Jason felt comfort in the fact that it was already fairly late in the day meaning he wouldn’t have to drive around for too long, his legs were beginning to tire; to be fair it was the end of a very long weekend. 

Sliding down between the halo into the seat of the car, he watched as a multitude of cameras began to flash at him. Ahead of him, the crew cleared the bystanders away, every single one of them desperate to get a shot of "the disgraced Janus driver. Jason pulled his helmet down over his face before allowing his foot to gently tease the throttle into a roar. 

The car rolled forwards, Jason steering it straight into the pit, trying to ignore the flashes which bounced off his thick plastic visor. Pulling down that visor, Jason hoped no one would be able to notice his own emotional fatigue, the driver pulled out away from the crowd; hopefully, this would go well.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The night crept onto Alicante in a silent woosh, Jason settling into bed with a contented smile; the day had been fairly mediocre overall. But you see that was perfectly fine, Jason’s heart rate was allowed to rest for a day, everything had been so stressful; events which shaped his anxious state from moment to moment. Living anxiously was part of Jason’s life now and so having a period of rest, even if that was sleeping for an interrupted period, was calming. 

Jason’s laps around the track had been fairly disappointing though, leaving him with a feeling of wanting - one he had felt for a while and so after jumping from his car he had run to Roy, hoping that the redhead would be able to give him some reassurance. And Roy had offered him some support, smiling in that happy way which made Jason’s very stomach tingle, before heading off to bed - in the wrong direction, Jason had noted. 

Closing his eyes, Jason cuddled the extra pillow next to him, the hotel duvet felt heavy on his weary body; sleep was calling him and he followed happily. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

_Click_

‘Hey, wake up sleepy head.’ There was a hand stroking Jason’s side and the woman’s voice was a soft melody, creeping slowly into Jason’s ear.

Jason turned over. His hair was mopped over his eyes, deep blue-green opening up to look towards the voice. It was Kori, her hair pulled over her shoulders in some sort of weird fashion that Jason couldn’t figure out. Her delicate fingers continued to dance over Jason’s covered body, willing him to wake up and so he did. ‘How’d ya get into ma’ room?’ Jason’s Gotham accent was thick in the back of his throat as he rubbed his eyes into the light. 

‘As your PA I have an extra key.’ She waggled it in his face as he struggled to climb out of bed. ‘I have bad news.’ Kori moved over to lean against the wall, her jeans were tight to her hips, the light from his window flooding over her tan skin and sparkling ever so slightly in the Spanish air. 

Jason shook his head, trying to rid himself of any remaining stubborn sleep. ‘Whatcha’, he cleared his throat with a crunching cough, ‘What do you mean?’ 

Kori looked out over the track which was the focus of Jason’s balcony view. She sighed loudly before turning back to Jason, were there little bruises up the side of her neck? Kori caught his gaze and blushed, pulling her hair back over her shoulders. ‘Lian has Scarlet Fever and so Roy has gone home.’ 

The dark-haired driver bolted upright in shock. ‘What?’

‘Yeah, it’s not great.’ Kori ran a hand through her hair before pulling out her phone. ‘So you know today is really important so you are going to be pulling a lot of weight today. As it’s the last day of the week you will be christening the team.’

Jason was moving his hands around. ‘Wait a second-’

‘So they are setting up some flares, where you can do some doughnuts and create some smoke and noise, y’know?’ Kori scrolled through her phone quickly, typing back a message to someone who was probably important. ‘Poor Roy, he was scared out of his wits when he heard about Lian, poor little baby girl.’

‘How do _you_ know about this?’ Jason stared at her, watching the way her neck stretched out under Kori’s curly hair. 

Kori’s lips were taped shut as she raised an eyebrow at Jason: ‘I was with him last night.’

The air became still for a second and Jason pushed all his questions to the back of his mind; poor baby Lian was probably crying her eyes out for her daddy to come home. His mind flicked back to one particular Christmas where he had been ill and Roman had- Roman had-, never mind. ‘Right! Up you get, you have a busy day ahead of you.’ 

Jason wanted to scream into his pillow, had he mentioned having a moment of calm for a second and how nice that was. Perhaps, the universe hated him?

~~~~~~~~~~~

Dick pulled a backpack over his shoulder, Slade was waiting outside the hotel entrance, looking in the mirror Dick nestled his block Gucci sunglasses into his hair. The young bachelor made sure to unbutton his printed shirt so that it showed his tanned chest. His shoes made a ‘clonking’ sound as he walked along, they were platformed and contradicted the tightness of his black jeans. 

‘Hurry up, pretty bird.’ Slade’s voice called out to Dick, the older man’s own shirt loosened up to the Spanish heat. Dick followed his voice, slipping past Slade and jumping down the marble stairs of the hotel; the car was a black rover of some sort. Slade was moving up behind Dick now, pushing Dick to jump into the car and sliding up next to him. ‘You look good, Grayson.’

Dick caught Slade’s eye, feeling a predatory aura spread throughout the car, he had to act nicely because after all, Slade had paid for the flights, the hotel and even the car taking them to the very event. Slade’s strong hands gestured to the driver before he turned around so that his body was facing Dick, his legs wide in some sort of power play. The car began to roll away and Dick felt some sort of breathlessness, the images in her head were only of Jason, god Jason, all that skin and muscle and leather and smoke; gorgeous Jason, who had taken Dick’s very heart captive. 

Slade hummed under his breath, watching Dick’s eyelashes flutter as he remembered something or other, he breathed in for a second: ‘I still can’t believe Brucey bought an F1 team.’ There was a soft rumble emerging from his broad chest. 

‘Neither.’ Dick turned away from the window, looking at the older man. ‘I knew he liked it but I didn’t know he loved it that much.’ 

Slade watched the sandy landscape zoom past. ‘He doesn’t seem seedy enough. Not like Lex and Roman.’ Slade had a fairly good opinion of Bruce. Although, thinking of the protective act Bruce put on, he really wanted to laugh. 

‘I didn’t know that you were on first name terms with those two - I’m pretty sure they both despise me.’ Dick’s lips were curled ever so slightly up in disgust; he had never been a huge fan of leather and from noticing the small nervous ticks Jason portrayed, he hadn’t grown to like Roman any more.

Slade rolled his eyes slightly, feeling the stubble of his beard under his large hands. ‘Get off your moral high horse Grayson, Roman paid for this trip and he was my boss and is my son’s boss.’ Dick felt slightly sick at the realisation that a more dangerous man was financing this outing, maybe Bruce was right? ‘Everyone in this sport is corrupt, even your little boy toy.’

Dick felt frozen in place as Slade’s words smacked the air out of his lungs. ‘Don’t talk about things you cannot comprehend.’ His words were clipped as Dick’s dark hair swung round in anger.

‘I know you and your taste better than yourself, of course, you want to fuck Todd, he looks exactly like your _daddy.’_

Dick felt bile in the back of his throat, why was Slade so harsh? Why did Dick forget every moment like this? Glancing over the shoulder of their driver, Dick watched the time on the sat nav tick down from 15 minutes to 14 minutes. ‘I don’t like you when you’re like this.’

Slade hummed once more, turning back to the window. ‘You know I am right though.’

_And perhaps he was._

~~~~~~~~~~~

Lex really could drone on and on and Roman was, unluckily on the receiving end of Lex’s constant utterance of nothing at all. They were stood out on the balcony which was raised above the race track, an exclusive area which Lex had hired out for his allies to comment on the rest of the racers. There was a large staircase running up from the pit straight and looking down over to the straight he spotted a team of engineers running about; the blue and black made his blood begin to boil. 

‘So who do you think is a threat this year?’ Lex was taking a martini from the server, bringing it up to his cold lips. Roman had been ‘friends’ with Lex since the beginning of their F1 debut; whilst Roman had been a driver for an old Gotham team, Lex had been a rich bachelor but they had found a common ground in trying to become better than everyone else around them. 

Roman brought a gloved hand to his face, ‘I don’t think we have to worry about Saagar.’ he gestured towards the championship-winning team. ‘I know tired drivers when I see them.’ The leather-clad man called another waiter over, grabbing a crystal glass with what was definitely hugely expensive brandy in it. Although, Roman’s lips had been so badly blistered he could still appreciate the strength in his throat. ‘Garth has burnt out.’ 

‘Are you sure?’ Lex sounded confused.

Roman sighed. ‘Of course, I am, even that ginger idiot from Outlaw Sport managed to beat him.’ He reached to his suit readjusting the sleeves back into position. 

‘Mr Sionis,’, a woman behind them spoke up, ‘Mr Wilson has arrived. Should I call for him to be escorted here?’ Roman noticed the way she was squeezing her hand so tight; Roman felt a slight exhilaration at the thought that she was scared.

Roman turned away from her. ‘Bring him here.’

‘Yes, sir.’

The sound of cars starting up began and Roman spotted what looked like a stage being built to the side of the concrete pit straight. 

Of course.

Every year during the testing session of the season, new teams got the chance to ‘christen’ their cars; a blatant moment of showboating and testosterone. Flicking through his memory, Roman listed the teams in his head; so that would be ‘Outlaw Sport’ and the new Mexican team ‘Destello’. For a second he tried to ignore the image of Jason in blue, focusing on a yellow and red car which was rolling out into the pit straight. The car set off around the corner, Roman tracing the fiery dot with his leather-covered thumb. Looking to his left, he noticed a large figure walking up the stairs and was that someone walking behind him?

Slade reached the top of the stairs. He was just as Roman remembered, the epitome of an image of masculinity; muscular with a close shave. ‘Roman.’ Slade held his hand out and Roman took it strongly, pulling Slade close and smiling at him; the smile was difficult to hold as it wasn’t something that he normally practised. 

The red-yellow dot flashed past them both and their heads both snapped over to the side. ‘What a lovely day, am I right?’ A chirpy voice floated through the air and Roman felt his very heart still.

Slade smiled back at Roman. ‘It’s not a problem is it?’

Roman swallowed down, feeling Lex’s presence behind him. ‘No.’

‘Dick Grayson - Wayne, I think we have met through Galas and stuff but we have never directly met. Of course, you know my father well.’ The younger man was standing next to Roman now, his enthusiasm wearing away at the brittle bones of his body. ‘The view from here is amazing!’ Dick leant forwards over the railed edge, Roman watching the kids vibrant eyes which darted around their surroundings; who did he think he was? 

Everything about him made Roman curl up on the inside; someone who represented complete overindulgence and loss of control. Dick interrupted his thoughts: ‘So is someone going to tell me what’s going on?’ He was now moving to stand beside Slade, the way he moved confusing Roman’s thoughts and Roman wondered what Wilson’s real intentions were.

Lex opened his arms up. ‘Mr Wayne it is a pleasure to welcome you into our group’, that wasn’t genuine, Roman noted, ‘and it will be great to get to know more about your new team.’

Roman ignored the ass-kissing, his anger simmering away gently, not only did Wayne take Jason from him but he sent his son, Richard, of all people to rub the coarse salt into the deep wound. At least, if Lex asked the questions, they would learn more about this new imposter team.

‘Please, call me Dick.’ He smiled at Lex, a smile that Roman would never be able to replicate; it was simply too genuine. 

Slade was watching the pits, ‘We seemed to have arrived at the right time Dick, that’s an Outlaw Car leaving the garage.’ He too was smiling at Grayson; what sort of power did this narcissist possess over the other men? 

Roman watched the car and he felt some deep irking within his soul. He could tell it was Jason driving, the way the wheels spun ever so slightly as the car burst into life; that was his Jason alright. Did Grayson even know? Roman found himself watching Dick, he would never have the same relationship which Jason and Roman had once had. 

‘I heard your engine broke down, Dick?’ Lex sounded curious and malicious at the same time; trying to root out weaknesses in the opposition. 

The bachelor’s hair was dangling in front of his face as he chewed on an olive. ‘Oh, it did?’ He laughed slightly, looking to Slade who was watching Dick with his hands in his pockets. ‘I must be honest with you gentlemen. I really have no clue what is going on!’

_Airhead_ , Roman thought to himself as he took another sip of brandy. Slade had moved over to stand next to him, his white shirt bristling in the Spanish wind slightly. ‘How’s Grant doing?’

Grant? Roman didn’t care about that little shit. Did Slade not see there was a bigger issue at hand? ‘He is mediocre at best.’ Roman sighed, shaking his head without looking at the taller man. ‘I honestly expected more from your son.’ 

Slade lifted his chin slightly, the sharpness of his jawline reflecting softly in the light. ‘Sons, often don’t live up to one’s expectations. Surely, _you_ would understand that?’

Roman turned to face Slade, his eyes squinting, there was a moment of silence between them as the leatherman processed the sentence. ‘Yes, often son’s disappoint.’

The sound of the Outlaw Sport car racing through the pit straight pulled them back to the testing. Dick’s voice was melodic against the breeze, smiling emptily as the car went past. ‘I haven’t watched a proper race in so long.’ Roman noted how the wind whipped across Dick’s perfect face, his shirt fluttering ever so slightly in the wind. 

‘I guess we are lucky’, he remarked softly, ‘that our main engineer and team director designed the unit herself.’

‘Ah, yes I heard about this mysterious engineer?’ Lex smiled as he moved in to stand next to the group, Roman felt embarrassed at the desperation which Luthor showed; he was obviously intimidated by ‘Outlaw Sport’.

‘She’s an old friend of mine.’ Roman noted the way Dick smiled as he said it, his eyes watching a car race past them. ‘Tipped to be the first female driver in Formula One but’, the boy looked to his hands; regret, guilt and fear, ‘there was an accident and she was paralysed for life.’ 

‘Such is the sport.’ Roman remarked matter of factly. ‘She should have expected injury when driving such dangerous cars.’ His gloves squeaked as his hands stretched out.

Dick turned to look at Roman, Roman noticing a slight fire in his eyes and perhaps the airhead was more than he seemed. ‘That’s not very emotion-allowing, Mr Sionis.’ His blue eyes challenged Roman’s authority and for some reason, Roman enjoyed the challenge. 

Slade hummed, trying to calm the tense air. ‘She decided to focus on creating her own unit and I convinced my father to sponsor her work. It worked because after two years she had produced her own unit and my father was able to complete the dream of having a Formula One team.’

The group watched as the blue and black car raced past them once more, the only sound between them being Lex slurping his martini. During their conversation, the grandstand had been filling up with various members of the media. ‘What are they getting ready for?’ Dick asked Slade, his voice soft as Dick pulled his Gucci shades down over his eyes. 

‘At the end of testing, every new team gets to do doughnuts in the main pit lane to celebrate the beginning of their season. It’s a tradition which happens each year.’ Slade rumbled, Roman noted as Slade’s hand settled on Dick’s back; the kid awkwardly shaking it off. 

Roman finished his drink, letting it drop down the back of his throat; his eyes tracked Jason’s car which pulled in towards the garages, coming to a halt. The number 13 plastered both on his car and within Roman’s mind, rising within him was a feeling of continuous anger and embarrassment for Jason; his son had always been a pushover, allowing anyone to own him with ease. 

‘All right, all right, all right!’ Someone was tapping a microphone, the sound popping in Roman’s ear. Dick Grayson stood like an excited puppy, his hands gripping the barrier; Roman noted the softness of his skin, no scars, no nothing; perfect. You see nothing really excited Roman at all, his ability to experience had been shot like a short fuse whilst Dick was healed, young, loving, everything that Roman could never be; even his being with them was a pain to Roman’s soul.

The man with the microphone was stood on top of the make-shift stage, the camera’s following him as he moved across the stage to gesture to the main pit straight. ‘We are about to celebrate the beginning of this 2017 championship. Let’s hear a cheer for our new drivers and teams this season!’

Dick Grayson whooped loudly, joining the chorus of happy voices that shouted and clapped; out of the corner of his eye, Roman noticed Dick watching him. ‘Introducing the rookies of this season: Timothy Drake, Grant Wilson, Jaime Reyes, Bartholomew Allen and Brion Markov. 

Two large banner screens lit up, displaying new crisp photos of each mentioned driver. Roman wanted to laugh out loud at the picture of Drake, the photographer had not taken the liberty to photoshop his deep eyebags and the kid just looked - depressed; the green of his racing suit created a cold tone which resonated through his skin. Something about the photo perturbed Roman.

And then there was Grant, Slade looking away nonchalantly as his son appeared on the large screen banner, looking like a small version of Slade with short disciplined hair, his lips in a straight serious line. Then finally, the ginger Brion Markov appeared on screen, arrogance pouring out of every single pore; he was an escalated version of Grant Wilson, one that Roman could take advantage of in the future: he would remember his face.

‘Okay, now it is time to get to spinnin’’ At the sound of engines starting up, the crowd roared once more and the group of rich men, the perfect scene for some desperate housewife, leaned forwards to get a better view of the two yellow-red Destello cars rolling out into the middle of their concrete arena. 

Dick spotted the two small heads which were driving the separate cars, yellow arrows which striped over the top of their redheads. ‘Who-’

‘Bart Allen and Jaime Reyes’ Slade answered curtly, it was almost like he knew everything Dick was going to say; his very being was inside Dick’s psyche.

The cars were now in parallel, their engines revving loudly in excited anticipation as cameras were aimed towards the spectacle. Roman’s eyes snapped to a small spark which was splashing up in a fountain-like shape; he felt heat covering his skin, each individual burn on his skin stinging in a reminder of his carelessness. The orange flare lit up, sparkling in the dusty air and the cars stopped braking, spinning round in a circle slowly. As they spun the orange smoke rushed around the two cars, people cheering as Bart’s car spun faster, pivoting around the same point. Smoke escaped from under the tires as their engines screamed loudly, the smoke dissipating slightly as both flares were run down to the very bottom of their wicks. The cars slowed and Roman was able to spot the moving videos of both drivers. 

The Bart on-screen turned to face the camera with a smile, his slim arms crossing over his yellow and red suit as the background flashed a deep red and mustard yellow. Roman wanted to scoff at his unbridled joy; what a fool, like his father. The right banner screen lit up simultaneously, Jaime lifting his head up to stare purposefully forwards; a show of competitiveness perhaps, one that reminded Roman of his own son’s deep inner soul. The two men pulled themselves out of the cars, the smaller man - Bart - running to Jaime and pulling him into a deep hug. It was hard to read people’s emotions through a helmet, Jaime lifted the visor up and nodded; ‘Cute.’ Roman sneered, Dick’s head-turning towards Roman before looking back to the celebration.

The two men posed for a picture and then jumped back into their cars, driving back to the garages to allow for the maintenance team to flap the smoke away in preparation for the next spin. Dick clapped his hands together happily, whispering under his breath ‘Come on, Jason.’ Roman felt sick to his very stomach, there was something else happening here and his lips froze in a line at the realisation that perhaps Dick was not just Jason’s boss. 

Roman would simply not allow it.

‘Right, ladies and gents, please welcome our next spinner: Jason Todd!’ The press went wild once more, perhaps routing for the beaten-down underdog was most satisfying. Roman had been pondering it for a while: the Outlaw car had a specific noisy scream as it started up, announcing itself to everyone in some arrogant, idiotic fashion. The car was now in sight, moving towards the middle of the pit, Dick’s mouth was hanging open in wonder; his eyes sparkled gorgeously. 

Roman could tell that Jason was holding the throttle and the brake at the same time, teasing a soft purr out of that very engine; always a tease. The blue flares lit up sending a wave of electric light over the car. For a moment the car was completely concealed and the group leaned forwards to try and spot the dishonoured driver, the spoiler spinning out of the blue cloud like a punch; each circle becoming more fast and aggressive. The engine screamed loudly as the car spun wide, Jason’s gloved hands locking the steering wheel into a turning position and the camera’s flashed as the spectacle continued. Dick sighed loudly, as the car came to a slow halt, his hands gripping the barrier strongly; _interesting_ , Roman smiled to himself.

However, unlike the performance before, the blue smoke had not cleared as the tall man emerged from his car; the screen behind him lit up showing the helmeted man’s face. And perhaps all of them stopped breathing when the video began to play.

Jason’s face was pilant and soft but also chiselled and stern; the broken man who Roman had created. As he turned there was something in his eyes which was puzzling, stirring sympathy within Roman’s cold corpse, and never had Roman considered Jason a _pretty boy_ but the way Jason’s white stripe flopped in front of his eyes left him completely speechless. 

Dick stood back grinning and then, only then, did Roman realise. Was this bastard in love with _his_ Jason? And perhaps he had entertained the thought of Dick wanting more from Jason than simply a boss-worker relationship. But love, he laughed softly to himself, Jason couldn’t love anyone; he was simply incapable. That thought gave Roman some sort of reassurance for no matter how Dick tried Jason would never, _never_ , be his. 

That was how it would be. Always.

Turning back to the in moment Jason, Roman watched as Jason climbed onto his car, punching the air. And the stupid boy had pulled his visor up, blue and black pigment splattered across his helmet, stupid, stupid, stupid boy. Roman squeezed his fist, feeling the leather fold around his charred skin. 

Roman breathed in a deep breath, thank god all that shit was over and he could go home and rel-.

‘Jason!’ Dick shouted, waving his hand frantically at the driver below them. ‘Hey!’ The driver below cocked his head, looking up to the enthusiastic bachelor. ‘Come up here!’

And Roman felt his anger peak, pacing past Slade to stand at the other side of the balcony; his skin was burning, hot. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Dick grinned, feeling as if he was the only person in the entire world as Jason climbed the long set of stairs towards them. And the young man hoped that for once this person did think of him as the only one who mattered, not Slade, not Bruce, god forbid not the leather asshole who was cowering in the corner. Jason grew closer, Dick feeling adrenaline pumping through every tiny capillary which nourished his huge heart, his large helmet highlighted by electric splashes. Slade was watching, Dick could tell and for one moment he did not care; all these men could fuck themselves, love had an inescapable path and Jason’s feet pounding on the metal stairs represented that.

Opening his eyes, Dick jumped. Jason was standing in front of him, towering above Dick, all muscle and strength which represented a tired and worked body. And with his helmet on Dick felt slightly intimidated, everything seemed on the large scale; his hands, his legs and his very head itself. Locking eyes with the driver, Dick smiled happily, ‘You looked great out there.’ His voice was melodic as always.

‘Thanks, Boss.’ Jason was now pulling his helmet off.

Boss? Wasn’t Dick his - his friend?

Dick went to speak but stopped, watching Jason shake the sweat out of his hair. A speckle of blue and black dots covered the driver’s eyes, reminding Dick of some sort of blue-black masquerade mask which smoked out Jason’s ocean eyes; for some reason, Dick felt enthralled by the image, a perfect picture which simply could not be replaced. 

Jason stepped past Dick to shake Slade’s hand: ‘Wilson.’ Dick could tell Slade was gripping Jason’s hand viciously.

‘You’ve grown a lot since I last saw you.’

Jason scoffed the true Gotham accent, which Dick yearned to hear all the time, lurching from his throat. ‘That is ageing my friend; a lot has changed.’

And for a second there was silence, Jason’s eyes empty as Roman stared at his old driver. ‘I need a new pack of cigs.’ Jason grunted to Dick, his palm wrapped around the lean muscle of the bachelor’s forearm; sparks exploded at the touch.

‘I-’

‘Roy has gone home’, he talked over Dick’s attempted to reply, ‘so I need a lift.’ 

Something awoke inside of Dick’s very soul and he felt a smile grip his face, enthusiasm rippling up through his limbs. ‘Of course, I can take you.’ Dick’s mind screamed, _he didn’t have to go back with Slade, thank the lord._

Dick turned his head, his shoes squeaked slightly on the floor, trying to provide the kindest smile possible: ‘You wouldn’t mind if I take Jason back to Gotham would you Slade.’ He reached forwards to touch his fingers to Slade’s bicep.

Slade obviously did mind but he smiled back, sickening, ‘That’s fine with me.’

Dick could have jumped for joy, ideas and opportunities racing through his mind, Jason was _his_ for the time being. _His!_

Leaning forward to squeeze Jason’s shoulder, he said softly but not too comfortably: ‘Go pack your bags, I will arrange a hire car in the meantime and I will meet you outside the hotel.’ 

Jason nodded in quiet response, emotion was still empty of his smoke-slash-paint covered eyes. And like that the driver was jumping down the stairs, disappearing back into one of the garages; elusive as always.

Turning in a flash, Dick smiled, very aware of the anger and annoyance all three men felt for him. But within himself, he knew that didn’t matter, for Dick was happy and loved and wanted; the things that truly mattered.

‘Right, gentlemen this has been fantastic.’ He swooned, practice at various Gala’s had made him an expert at sneaking off.

And just before Dick turned, he felt courage rising within his soul.

What harm would it do?

Dick winked at Roman Sionis, ‘See ya!’

_What harm could it possibly do?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos are appreciated!
> 
> Thanks for reading :)

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments appreciated :)


End file.
